


Day of the Rat

by Generic_Writers_Name



Series: Ninja Turtles - The 90s Movies Continuing Adventures [1]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990s Movies), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: 1990s, Action/Adventure, Comedy, Complete, Fantasy, Martial Arts, Pop Culture, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 65,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Generic_Writers_Name/pseuds/Generic_Writers_Name
Summary: Turtle vs Rat!The Ninja Rap craze has been and gone, but the Turtles' image is out there. The Foot Clan is rising again, while an even worse threat emerges from the sewers. In a city under siege, with those closest to them being targeted by their enemies, the Turtles must face their deadliest challenge yet... Combat with their own sensei.This story is set between the 2nd and 3rd 1990s movies.





	1. Once Up On

**GOLDEN HARVEST does not present With absolutely no involvement from GARY PROPPER An ALAN SMITHEE Nonfilm TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES DAY OF THE RAT Starring** **(Hypothetically) PAIGE TURCO LANCE HENRIKSEN PAM MAPPE MARK DOERR RAYMOND SERRA COVEY L BOYD** **STEVEN FENNELL** **SILAS** **B** **URK** **E** **JOSH GRASSE** **and** **TOSHISHIRO OBATA as Tatsu with COREY FELDMAN as the voice of Donatello Special appearance by JUDGE REINHOLD Based upon characters created by KEVIN EASTMAN & PETER LAIRD Animatronic characters (hypothetically) provided by JIM HENSON's CREATURE SHOP Screenplay by GENERIC SCREENWRITER's NAME Produced by GENERIC PRODUCER's NAME Directed by ALAN SMITHEE**

 **DISCLAIMER:** The Turtles and associated characters don't belong to me. The story is for my own entertainment and hopefully that of a few others. I don't own any of these toys; just playing with them.

 **NOTE:** This story happens a few weeks after the events of _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze_ , and some time before _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III._

* * *

 

 

_Once, there was a town, and that town was overcome by a plague - A plague of rats so numerous and so fierce that nothing could be done. Food stores were devastated, and no man, woman or child dared walk the streets alone._

_Till one day a stranger arrived, a man who promised to rid them of the rats. For a price..._

_Once, there was a princess, who lived in a tower and yet could still see clearly all the great wrongs in the world, and she knew that something must be done. All the dark deeds done in dark corners must be brought into the light, and the princess decided she would be the one who would shine that light._

_Till one day the evil Baron Oroku, the worst wrongdoer of all, decreed the princess must be silenced..._

_Once, there were four warrior brothers, who lived in a great city, and they protected the city and overcame much hardship and strife. They were trained in the arts of war by a wise creature - half-man half-animal - who in his wisdom saw the brothers were not united - There was not harmony, and without that there could never be true unity among them._

_As the forces of evil gathered round the city once more, their wise mentor sent the brothers forth on one final test. If they could succeed in that test, then and only then would the brothers be truly ready for their destiny..._

* * *

**New York, 1976...**

He could hear it again. The scrabbling. Far off, but coming nearer. He opened his eyes, and closed them again against the intense glare.

 _"He's coming 'round..."_ He felt hands adjust the layers of cloth covering him.

Covering him - He was lying down. In a bed. He heard, faintly, a P/A system - What was that, how did he know what that was? - Where did that phrase come from…? " _Doctor Howard... Doctor Howard to Ward C20... Doctor Fine to Cardiology… Repeat - That's Doctor Howard to C20 please..._ "

The scrabbling was still there. Coming nearer... Thinking about that could wait. His mind was being flooded, overwhelmed, with these sensations and he needed to cope with them one at a time.

One of the hands which weren't his took one that was. It felt his wrist, held his hand in the air... _"I got a hundred and twenty-five... That's too fast... Golda...?"_

_"Yeah...?"_

The scrabbling was still there. Coming nearer... He wondered if these others could hear it too.

 _"This guy's pulse is a little fast and erratic. I think we should call"_ -

The voice choked off and gasped in pain. He wondered why, a moment before realizing it was because of him. He had grabbed the wrist firmly, a little too firmly, and he felt a delicate bone snap under the pressure. The nurse - it was a nurse, he could only be in a hospital - tried to snatch her hand away, only succeeding after a few seconds of struggle.

He didn't know his own strength. _That was a cliché_ , he thought, then wondered what a cliché was.

The scrabbling was still there. Coming nearer... He also wondered what that was.

He felt he could bear the pain of the light now, and opened his eyes. A round face with large dark eyes, a woman around forty, stared back at him, nursing her damaged wrist. "He's awake" she said. "Mister Hynten... Can you hear me? Mister Hynten?"

Hynten. Was that his name? It didn't seem wrong, it seemed somehow incomplete. Like it was true, but only covered a tiny portion of who he was. He was Hynten, he realized - Lawrence Hynten had been his name. There had been other names before that. So many names...

The scrabbling stopped. No need to worry about it then.

He suddenly felt an unbearable urge to move, to get out of this bed, this prison. He clawed at the confining sheets, pulled the device out of his arm, scarcely noticing the pain, lurched to his feet and stood on unsteady legs, swaying.

"He shouldn't be able to do that... Golda...?! Need some help here. Mister Hynten, please listen to me. My name's _-_ Ow _-_ Nurse Marjean... You can't... You shouldn't be out of bed. Please don't touch the bandages, Mister Hynten. You were attacked, you've got some injuries, you'll be OK, you really will. But you have to leave those bandages alone..."

Attacked...?

* * *

_Lawrence Hynten took a step back and wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his overall. He smiled. "There. That's it done. Boy, I can't wait to get out of this place. It's like a sewer down here." He laughed, started to run a hand through his hair, and then remembered it was covered in gunk..._

* * *

She was right about the bandages. His face was half-covered, wrapped around with soft bands of linen. Underneath... No, no, he had to leave them alone, leave the bandages alone, that was important, he must obey that.

* * *

_Lawrence Hynten took off one glove and carefully sniffed the substance on it. "What is this stuff? Well, it's not toxic, that's for sure. Nice shade of green..." Hey, what was that noise? That scrabbling..._

* * *

"What... What attacked me?"

"We're not sure. Look, sir, it's best you just lie back down right now. We've got you fixed up, you just need to rest now... Golda, hi, could you get... Mister Sanders, please?"

"Mister what? Oh, yeah, right..."

* * *

_The creatures came out of nowhere. They were on Lawrence Hynten before he could call out, not that anyone could hear him, before he could even take a proper breath. He panicked as they climbed his body, as new waves of them covered him and enveloped him in a stinking furry mass..._

* * *

He took a rattling breath, reassured to find he could breathe properly. The nurse looked concerned. "Can you remember anything about what happened, sir?" she asked. A sudden insight told him she was playing for time.

Time for what? Mister Sanders... An official euphemism, mustn't alarm people... Security. Security for what? Was someone around here dangerous?

Then he realized, and his eyes snapped round to the nurse with something new in them. The vagueness was gone. Lawrence Hynten was no longer alone in there. They wouldn't understand. He had to get out of here. But how?

That was when the vent in the wall launched itself across the room and the confined mass of creatures poured out. They had come for him again. This time, though, he wasn't afraid.

* * *

"Security? Hi, it's ward J54 here... We've got a patient who might be a bit of a problem. No, I don't think so, it's just a precaution. It's a sewer maintenance guy, he's had some kind of accident, a few bites, but he's traumatized... Yeah, please..."

Golda walked quickly back into the ward and stopped. Stared at the mess left behind; her colleague staring back at her, a detached look like she was hypnotized or something. There was no sign of the patient. "Marjean? You OK? What happened here?"

"Oh, it's OK." The blank stare. "They came for him. I think he's gonna be OK now..."

* * *

 

 

 **Next:** Manhattan is invaded and Vanilla Ice falls in a puddle, but not everybody is kung fu fighting…


	2. Rat Rampage

**Almost 16 years later...**

All was quiet and still in the now disused subway station. Or perhaps not quite disused... In one corner, a beat-up sofa and a battered television set. In another, a work bench with disassembled electrical appliances and tools scattered around. Nearby, a table covered with crumbs and congealed traces of cheese and tomato and other ingredients less easy to identify.

A subterranean Mary Celeste.

The silence was interrupted by a loud click. After a brief pause, a tinny voice crackled forth from the answering machine's small inbuilt speaker.

- _"Hi, Master, it's Donatello. Hey, I know you wanted us to stay incommunicado up here... We were worried..."_ The message went on for a while, and the spy listened right to the end.

Dropping to the floor, the rat scurried away.

* * *

**Above...**

The streets of New York on this particular Thursday evening, just as it was getting dark, were frenzied and chaotic. Car horns blared, voices yelled, people pushed and shoved each other.

Which was fine, this was normal. But what wasn't normal was the sudden arrival of-

-Rats! First a few, then a hundred, then a thousand. Scurrying out of storm drains, out of dark alleys - In one unfortunate case, out of a car window into the face of a baffled onlooker. Rats. Lots and lots of rats, and more rats. Rats.

Rats.

Not much could faze the people of New York, but this was too much. A hot dog vendor abandoned his stall. Drivers left their cars in the middle of the road. A mother snatched her baby from its buggy and ran. It didn't matter where, just away from the rats! A panicked man fell over that buggy in a tangle of arms and legs.

It got so bad one guy even abandoned the takeaway pizza he was eating.

It got _that bad_.

A magazine stand was up-ended and its contents spilled out onto the street. One magazine that landed face-up in a shallow puddle showed a grainy picture of four bizarre creatures on a stage next to a man with flattop hair. " **NINJA TURTLES NO MORE: ANATOMY OF A FLASH IN THE PAN** " read the bold text.

One rat among the multitude had a separate purpose. It ran along the side of an apartment building, darted up the wall and jumped onto a fire escape, then up onto the roof and then down a drainpipe... It jumped onto another fire escape, and waited in front of a window. After a moment, the window opened, seemingly by itself, sliding upwards leaving a gap of a couple of inches, and the rat slid through the gap.

The chaos outside was audible, but even so the apartment was an oasis of calm. It was open-plan, with a spiral staircase leading to an upper floor. No one was around, and the rat scurried to and fro. All its senses attuned, focused on... what?

Jumping onto the sofa, the rat landed on a remote control and switched on the television. Attention caught, it watched as the screen lit up and, after a moment, with a faint buzz of static, a picture resolved...

\- _"So, tell me, Miss, uh, Miss McWilliams, how did you first meet, um, this giant Turtle? It was a Turtle, that's right? You're sure about that?"_

\- _"I assure you, Miss O'Neil, that I know a Turtle when I see one. My ex-father kept dozens of amphibians, and I'm not likely to mistake a Turtle for, say, a terrapin..."_

\- _"And, let me see if I've got this right, this Turtle was approximately six and a half feet tall - hmm - wore a red band around his eyes - red, huh? - and spoke with a..."_

\- _"A Hungarian accent, yes..."_

* * *

"Something like Dracula actor Bela Lugosi...?" ventured April O'Neil helpfully, leaning forward. Realizing she might have offended her guest, she smiled in a hopefully disarming fashion before stealing a brief glance at her notes.

The forty-something woman in the chair opposite just became more and more affronted - pinched, sharp features tightening as thinly-plucked eyebrows rose higher and higher. "I hope I don't detect a tone of mockery in your voice, Miss O'Neil" she reproved sternly. "That would be most unprofessional of you."

The red neon signs displayed ON AIR. The WRTL Channel 3 News studio was hushed and tense. From the floor to the soundproofed gallery, all attention was focused on the small set faced by three large TV cameras on wheeled pedestals.

April found her gaze shifting gradually up as Miss McWilliams spoke - She just couldn't help it. Her guest's greying hair was scraped up into a very large bun on top of her head, like a massive loaf of bread balanced there precariously, and every time she spoke the bun wobbled alarmingly side to side, forward and back. A few times, April had had to stop herself trying to catch it.

"Not at all, Miss McWilliams. I think it's true to say, a lot of people are very interested in these Turtles, ever since the pictures were first released, and those like yourself, who have actually seen them in, um, person..." Searching for the right words, April was actually rather pleased about managing to say all that with a straight face.

"In person…?"

"Well, I mean that it's one thing to see a couple of soft-focus pictures and a few seconds of grainy film"-

-"They exist, Miss O'Neil..." Miss McWilliams said in a hushed tone, eyes widening. "Never doubt it..."

"Oh, I don't..." said April, allowing herself to be just ever so slightly enigmatic. "Now, this Turtle you say you've..."

"Stanley was kind enough to intervene and fend off some unwanted male attention following a class we both attended"-

-"An aerobics class?" April cut in, trying to establish a logical through-line for the viewers at home. Hey, it may not have been _her_ idea to interview this strange character but she was going to do the job to the best of her ability.

Miss McWilliams tutted. "Yes, an aerobics class. Stanley is a keen practitioner of kung fu, and uses aerobics to keep his joints supple. Now, it is an unfortunate fact that although aerobics classes are mainly attended by ladies, there is an occasional, how to put it, element involved that might be there just to... Um..."

"But not Stanley?" demanded April doggedly. She leaned forward, pointing and waving her pen at Miss McWilliams in an accusing gesture, and in response her guest retreated further back into her seat. "And you're sure, _totally sure_ , he was called Stanley...? And... And six and a half feet? Really? Oh, and kung fu? You're sure it was kung fu...?"

Miss McWilliams sounded flustered. "What curious questions, if I might say so, Miss O'Neil, even by the standards you've set yourself so far. Stanley was, and is, a perfect gentleman. Or, heh, gentleturtle perhaps..." She allowed herself a little chuckle at the joke, before realizing no one else had even recognized it as such.

On the monitor, April could see that an artist's sketch based on Miss McWilliams's description of the mysterious "Stanley" had been flashed up on the screen. With his red bandana streaming in the wind, "Stanley" cut an almost familiar figure. Almost, but not quite.

Way too tall. Not enough attitude.

"But... Miss McWilliams, didn't anyone else at the class find Stanley's appearance... um, curious? Even perhaps threatening…?"

"Well yes, that was clearly... a factor..." Clearing her throat, Miss McWilliams continued. "I for one soon found that one wasn't to be fooled by his apparently mean exterior"-

-"Mean? I think he's kinda cute..." was April's automatic response. Her glance flicked over to the camera lens for the briefest of moments. "Uh, not that I have a favorite, obviously..."

"Really, Miss O'Neil, if you will keep interrupting me"-

-"Actually, Miss McWilliams, it looks like that's all we have time for." As her guest reacted with indignation, April turned to the center of the three cameras. "Well, that is indeed all we have time for tonight, folks. I guess that even now, almost six weeks since those famous photographs first appeared, those so-called _Ninja Turtles_ still have a lot of unanswered questions left hanging...

You have been watching Channel Three's News Digest. Join us tomorrow night at six-thirty when your host will be Jim McNaughton, and I will be back on Monday for your regular news updates..."

* * *

" _...This is April O'Neil. Please enjoy your Thursday evening._ "

The glow of the TV screen was reflected in the rat's eyes. As if it had seen all it needed to, the creature turned and left the apartment the way it had come in.

It scurried down the fire escape all the way to the ground. It kept to the shadows, and vanished into a storm drain.

Hurrying through the tunnels below, the rat followed a labyrinthine path that took it deep into New York's sewer system. It came to rest finally and looked up as a shadow fell over it. A callused, bandaged hand reached down and picked up the rat, bringing it close to a face also half covered by bandages.

A hoarse voice whispered. "I will have your report now, my soldier. What have you discovered?" The rat relaxed in its master's hands, nose sniffing the air. It made no sound, but he listened as if they were in some way communing. "Ah yes. The surface-dwellers and their delusions. That can only work to our advantage..."

The bandaged man produced a flute-like instrument and started to play. The tunnel was filled with a melancholy tune, and soon that tune could be heard for miles through the entire sewer system...

* * *

Below the streets of New York, in the repurposed subway station, a pair of unnaturally large rodent ears perked up.

Splinter frowned. That tune again. It was familiar, and yet not. It spoke to him of unbearable longing, and seemed to beckon to him. _Come, come with me. Come with me and all your wishes will be granted._ He almost did as it asked. He almost followed it to its source. But Splinter would not be anyone's slave. Splinter was strong.

"My sons... Perhaps I was wrong to send you away..." He shivered.

Would he be strong enough?

* * *

"Phil, where do you get these cranks?" April asked as she led the way out of the Channel 3 studio into the bustling newsroom. _Six and a half feet tall…? Kung fu...? Stanley...? Really...?_

"It's a slow news day, April. We might as well milk this Ninja Turtle thing while we can. Uh, listen, office day for you tomorrow, right?"

"Actually, I was planning to come in around twelve, if that's OK. Got to catch up on some research I was doing."

"Fine, yeah… Just one thing, this is your new assistant." April turned - Already big eyes, magnified further by thick-lensed glasses, stared keenly back, and April took an involuntary step backward.

Phil made the perfunctory introductions. "Irma Langinstein, this is April O'Neil. April, Irma."

"Hello, Miss O'Neil", said the young woman. "I'd just like to say what an honor it is to be working with the youngest anchor-woman on the network so early in my career." April wasn't very tall herself, but Irma stood a good two inches shorter in her sneakers. Also, _apparently,_ she didn't need to blink.

"...Uh, that's any network" April corrected automatically, and smiled, her glance darting over to Phil. "Hi. Irma Langinstein... Any relation?"

Phil's head turned slowly toward her, and she regretted the question already. There was a moment of chilly silence till Irma replied, untroubled. "Well, I suppose you'd know my uncle..."

"I was hoping you would come in just a little earlier so you could show Irma the ropes." Phil was glaring daggers at April, and she shrugged almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah, OK. That'll be fine. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow, Irma. About eleven?" April shook hands with Irma, and the young woman walked away.

"Really, April. I know you've got a thing about getting here without pulling any strings, and I respect that, but _that_ was unfair..."

"It was just something to say, Phil. You did spring this on me. All right, so she's the niece of one of the station's biggest shareholders... So what…? I'm sure she'll be fine, but I wish you'd consulted me first before you made her my _assistant_..."

"Look, I'll be honest with you - my arm was being twisted a little over this. Cut me some slack, OK? I know how you like to screen them carefully these days, but this one comes pre-screened. Right?" Phil took a proffered clipboard, skim-read the sheet attached to it and signed it.

He continued, stopping April in her tracks as she tried to slip away. "Plus, she was in the mail room for five whole days, and that's two more than a certain prodigy I could name... Anyway, there's another thing. What's this I hear about an informant? You haven't claimed any expenses."

April shook her head ruefully, smiling. "Oh... Good one, Phil. You're busting me for expenses I _haven't_ claimed."

"I'm not busting you for anything" Phil replied, exasperated. "I just wish you would keep me in the loop. Seriously, I don't know what Chuck Pennington let you get away with, but on my watch"-

-"OK... It's a story I'm working on, early stages. It's vital my informant is kept secret. And, you know, they don't even want money..."

"It's them, isn't it? The Foot Clan…?" April cringed at Phil's loud-voiced invocation. For her, secrecy and the Foot Clan had been necessary companions for a while now. "Look, April," he went on, "Apart from anything else it's a question of your safety. I can't allow you"-

-"Phil, keep it down, will you? You know they had a spy here."

"This guy Freddy, yeah. Between you and me, I'm still not sure I"-

-"Well, _I'm_ the one who was dragged into an alley... and told to, um, stay off their case... So, I'm pretty sure..." April clammed up - For obvious reasons, she had been a little reticent on detail with Phil regarding her encounter with the Foot, and now she kind of regretted bringing it up.

"Sure of what...?" That put her a little on the spot, and she thought carefully before answering.

"Well, uh, I'm pretty sure of two things, actually... One, it really suits those guys to stay hidden... Two, it's important someone shines a little light on them..." April looked at her watch. "And I don't see anybody else stepping up right now..." she added regretfully.

"Yeah, but"-

-"Listen, boss, I gotta run. See 'ya'."

"April? Let me assure you, once again, nothing can be more important than... April!" Phil was distracted by a reporter offering him a phone handset, and he looked round irritably.

"Phil, it's for you. Something about rats..."

"Look, uh, just take a message, OK, Pete...? It'll keep."

"Uh, OK, sure..."

* * *

\- _"We got sight of her again..."_

\- _"Well, what are you calling me for…? Keep her in sight..."_

No one was listening in on the phone line, but the two hushed male voices sounded like they were worried someone might be. Their conversation was clipped and to the point, and shied away from specifics.

\- _"Look, don't worry... We got this..."_

\- _"You better... Just don't lose her..."_

\- _"Like I said, don't worry. Hey, it's not like a TV reporter is big on hiding..."_

* * *

 **Next:** Pizza is disgusting, Chief Sterns is off the record again and the Foot are on hand…


	3. Cordon Blue

On her way out, April stopped briefly in her office. Dialing a familiar number on the phone on her desk, and waited impatiently to be connected. "Come on... Answerphone... Great. OK, fine... Hi, guys, it's me, I just... well, I just wanted to see if you guys were back yet. I guess not. It's been a while. I, uh, miss you. Call me at home, if you get this, OK...?"

On her way out again, April managed to duck past Phil once more as he was addressing the office in a loud voice. "Listen up, people, for those who don't know, for the ten o'clock we are leading with that missing police car story..." He noticed April leave with irritation and shook his head.

_"Stolen from right under their noses..."_

_"Yeah, Chief Sterns went ballistic..."_

_"No kidding..."_

In her hurry, April hadn't quite closed her office door properly. Irma, still lingering to watch the office go about its business, helpfully stepped in to close it... or so a casual bystander would have sworn. Gauging the right moment, Irma quickly slipped into the office and hurried over to the desk.

Her eye was drawn to a sheet of paper next to the phone on which lots of numbers were scrawled, and her attention quickly went to one in particular. A long number with lots of unusual prefixes, beneath an underlined _Renaissance boys_.

Before anyone even noticed she was there, Irma was back in the office and pulling the door shut behind her.

* * *

In the subway station, Splinter's head snapped round at a sudden noise. The phone installed by Donatello in the railway carriage rang once, then a click interrupted it and a voice issued from the speaker.

\- _"...Hi, guys, it's me, I just... well, I just wanted to see if you guys were back yet..."_

* * *

Barely five minutes after leaving the newsroom, at a brisk walk April was already halfway home. The convenient location was one of the perks of a hastily-assembled pay-deal.

Pizza. _Yuck_. She carefully stepped over the congealed mess that had once been a wedge-shaped slice of the Turtles' favorite, and onto the sidewalk, noting all the other debris scattered around the strangely deserted street. The tipped over baby buggy gave her a moment's troubled pause. Fortunately, it was empty. Strange. This place was usually pretty busy around now.

A number of police cars arrived at the end of the street, sirens blaring. April turned to see cars arrive at the other end too. Instinct kicked in and she ducked into a doorway, concealing herself from view.

_What's going on here...?_

One way to find out...

* * *

"What have you got?" asked an exhausted Phil, nearing the home strait at the end of a very long day.

"Well..." started Irma, before being quickly interrupted.

"I want you to realize, Irma, I don't normally go around spying on my staff. April is giving me very genuine concern for her safety."

"Yeah, absolutely... Understood." Irma bit her lip. "Um, has she ever talked about the... renaissance? You know, Italian art, thirteen-hundreds, fourteen-hundreds..."

"What…?" Phil looked distracted. "Uh, yeah, I suppose. She covered some kind of international art exhibition a while ago, I forget the details..."

"Oh." Whatever Irma had hoped for, this wasn't it - she felt it in her gut. "OK. Never mind, it's probably nothing. You know what, I think I'm going to need more time on this, Chief. But don't worry, you can rely on me."

* * *

 "That's it, Chief. Cordons are in place. Everything's sewn up tight." The uniformed police officer handed Police Chief Sterns a megaphone and stood well back. Today, the Chief didn't wear his usual relatively approachable look of a disappointed bulldog, but that of a disappointed bulldog chewing several pine cones. Sterns fiddled with the switch and a moment later his voice blasted out of the device and filled the street with his not so gentle tones.

"ALL RIGHT, PEOPLE! HERE'S HOW IT IS! IN A MINUTE, WE'RE UNPACKING THESE THINGS AND LETTING THEM LOOSE! THEN IT'S GOODBYE TO OUR LITTLE PROBLEM!" He switched off and handed the megaphone back, muttering irritably. "THOUGH WHY I'M-!" He again fiddled with the switch and this time successfully switched the megaphone off. "Though why I'm expected to do Pest Control's job for them..."

"Chief, hi... What's going on?" a familiar voice asked cheerfully. Even without the voice, April's yellow plastic rain jacket was recognizable in the periphery of his vision. Perfect. Just as his day was going so well.

Sterns turned. "Miss O'Neil" he forced himself to say politely, and as slowly as possible to give himself time to think. Then a brief pause, as it hadn't been quite long enough. "How did you get past the cordon?" he asked casually.

"Oh, I was already inside" said April, seemingly oblivious to his annoyance, peering curiously at a van surrounded by a mixture of police officers and overalled engineers. They seemed to be unloading something from the back. "What's a... Mous-?"

-"Never mind that...!" Sterns snarled, before getting his temper in line. "I mean, I don't know what you're"-

-"Is this something to do with the rats?" April watched as the tarpaulin was lifted from a large trolley and several mechanical devices, some kind of robots possibly, were lowered carefully to the ground. "I was just on my way home, noticed something was going on down here."

"Great. That's just the sort of delightful co-incidence my days are constantly blessed with" said Sterns, rather too sweetly. They stood in awkward silence for a moment, watching the ongoing preparations at the other end of the street.

"Any word on that stolen patrol car...?" April asked with a casualness that would fool no one, let alone someone as alert to a trick as Chief Sterns.

"Investigation is proceeding" he replied, teeth gritted just a little. "Listen, Miss O'Neil, don't take this the wrong way, but... But out!"

April smiled. "Chief, do you see any cameras? I'm off duty."

"Oh, you mean we're off the record?" Sterns sounded hyper-reasonable, unnaturally calm.

"Yeah, OK, sure."

"And you know where I stand on that." Sterns smugly clicked his fingers and beckoned a couple of nearby young cops. "Here. Escort this civilian outside the cordon." The cops looked startled, even a little wary.

"Chief Sterns, look..." said April earnestly. "You know I've really never tried to make a fool out of you. I've only ever given you a chance to speak."

Sterns frowned, thinking about that one carefully. Regretting her dig, April tried a different tack. "Look, Chief", she said more congenially, "I'm sorry if I"-

-"Look alive!" Sterns prompted the two young cops, and they came over. One of them, seeming very surprised and even a little nervous, hesitantly touched April's arm and led her away from Sterns, the other one following with a grim backward glance at the Police Chief. Sterns was happy, pleased with his handling of the situation, for about a second.

There was a bang and a sort of fizzing sound, followed by a cloud of thick smoke from the robots. One of the engineers came running over, and Sterns threw a glance at the departing reporter.

April paused, looking back. "Sorry, Chief!" she called. "I promise, I won't say a word."

Sterns cursed under his breath, and turned to hear the man's report. "Like we said, Chief, it's just too soon. We've still got a problem with the power cells. The Mou- um, the devices - just aren't ready. Give us a month and we'll have it"- Sterns curtly stopped the man with a gesture. Without another word, he turned back to his car, adjusted his uniform with great dignity, and got in the back seat.

"Drive" he said, wearily. "Anywhere. Just away."

"Chief, we got the Deputy Mayor on the 'phone... Chief...?"

* * *

The cops manning the cordon let April through and she smiled at them as she passed. The other two escorting her moved to follow, and she turned. "Uh, thanks guys, I know my way from here." One of them looked questioningly at the other, who shook his head curtly. Slightly bemused, April nodded at them, and went on her way. That was... different.

After walking a few feet, she stopped and looked back. She smiled again and waved. " _'Bye, guys_ " she breathed. " _Take a hint..._ "

"Do you think she knows?" demanded Jake. Agitated, he took off his cap and ran a hand through his very non-regulation mop of center-parted dark hair.

"A minute. Then we follow" said Matt - blond, steely-eyed, unmistakably the alpha. Both of them were in their early 20s. The two of them stepped back and wandered away from the barrier.

"What do you think he wants her followed for?" asked Jake uneasily.

"You got a quarter? Call and ask..." replied Matt calmly, keeping April in sight. "...Yeah, looks like she's going back to her apartment."

Sulking, Jake voiced another concern. "Are you sure the car will be all right?"

"The new plates will keep them off our backs for long enough. Long enough to serve its purpose, anyway... What's got you so tense…?" He snorted. "Oh _yeah_ , right..."

"What?" Jake demanded defensively.

"You _know_ what."

* * *

April heard the faint sound of the TV as soon as she got in. Smiling, she took off her jacket, moved over to the breakfast bar and picked up a notepad. "Hey! Where've you guys been...?" she called.

On her way to the sofa, she looked down into the sitting area and was surprised to see no one there. Surprised, and a little disappointed.

"Donny…? Raph...? Mikey...?" No answer. She supposed there was little point calling for Leo - if he was here he would probably have spoken up by now. So, who switched on the TV…?

The fallen remote caught her eye, and April picked it up, noticing the slightly open window. "Hey... Careless, O'Neil, careless... Not like me at all." She closed the window and went back to the notepad.

"Now..." she said to herself, reading her way down a bullet-pointed list on the top sheet of the pad. "Done... Done. Done, tank's full. Called them, nobody there. That can wait. That can wait. _He_ can definitely wait... Indefinitely." A moment of doubt, maybe even guilt, at that last one, then she moved on.

"New item..." she continued. In private, the neutral accent of the TV professional was nudged out by the vowels of a New York girl. "Make sure turn TV off..." April tapped the pen lightly against her cheek for a moment. "...Um, stop talking to myself... No, that one can wait too." She paused, looking round. "OK. Ready."

Kicking off her shoes, she ran up the spiral stairs to the apartment's upper floor.

* * *

The new arrival to the derelict apartment was watched as he approached. Hidden by his long dark coat and wide-brimmed hat, he didn't see the eyes on him but he knew they were there and he approved. As he climbed stairway after stairway, as he walked along the echoing hallway and arrived at the nondescript door; one among many; they continued to watch.

He knocked three times.

Freddy put the bag that he had been carrying on a table along with the coat and hat, and moved to the center of the room. A dozen or so sullen, demoralized youths watched him warily. Teenagers, boys, not one of them over twenty - Like him, they were in civilian garb, remnants of their old life. Freddy looked round them calculatingly, his long face impassive, his light blue eyes intense.

"You all OK?" he asked, in a concerned voice. Most of them nodded, a few avoided his gaze completely. None were prepared for what came next.

"Well, you shouldn't be!" he yelled fiercely. He let them consider that for a few moments, staring at each in turn. "Master Shredder is dead" he said more calmly. "For real this time. Our territories are invaded. Those who once feared the Foot Clan, now they openly laugh at us."

He paused. "But that's going to change. And all that's needed to change that is a leader worthy of Master Shredder's legacy..."

Looking round to gauge the reaction, Freddy noticed that some of them were actually looking past him, at the door that led to the rest of the apartment. A floorboard creaked a few feet behind him. He stopped talking, rapidly thinking back. Replaying everything he had just said in his head. He didn't look behind him; he already knew what he would find.

" _Agreed_." A low, guttural voice spoke from over his shoulder. "These things must be put right." The squat form of Tatsu, the Shredder's right-hand-man, came into view. Freddy swallowed nervously. Tatsu was the one who had taught Freddy everything he knew about fighting, but Freddy had never deluded himself that he had been taught everything _Tatsu_ knew.

"Master Tatsu" he said. "You live. I am... pleased." It didn't matter how transparent the lie was. All that mattered was he must be seen to show respect. The Foot Clan's most senior living member in New York peered at Freddy closely, and seemed satisfied that was the case.

Tatsu moved to the center of the room, and Freddy moved to stand at his right hand. The symbolism was not lost on any of them, and none objected to their positions in this new hierarchy. At least for now.

"Master, if I may begin..." offered Freddy, and at Tatsu's nod, continued. "The Foot Clan in New York has suffered a defeat, but we are not finished. There are three more safe-houses just like this one, with at least the same numbers in each... Our enemies, the four mutant turtles and their trainer, the rat... have not been seen for some time. Now, that is no surprise, since unlike us they can't exactly take off their masks and go see a movie..."

If Freddy had more to say, Tatsu cut him short, stifling the half-hearted laughter. "I follow Master Shredder's last orders, before he... was distracted. We will strike these Turtles. Use our full strength against them. If they will not show themselves, we will make them!"

That intrigued Freddy. He searched his very precise memory. _Before he was distracted_ – he supposed that meant distracted by the ooze canisters and the strange events that had resulted. The strangest few days of his life. Giant flowers. Working for TV news Channel 3. Tokka and Rahzar. Their final, musical showdown with the Turtles, from which he had barely escaped. Then...

No, that memory was still too painful. Rewind a little. He remembered the night Shredder had shown up out of the blue when all had been thought lost. Tatsu had picked Freddy out to follow Shredder's instructions. Those instructions had been... Freddy smiled as he recalled.

_Follow the reporter._

* * *

The rider was anonymous in black leather and a helmet with a tinted visor. The bike, a modified 1978 Honda, had seen better days, but it was fast. Right now, it was cruising, traversing more or less the same route again and again.

This was a bad neighborhood, till very recently dominated by the Foot Clan, but if trouble threatened, the bike's turn of speed would leave pursuers eating dust. The rider knew what to look for. It was just a matter of waiting for it to show up.

In the event anyone tried to find the _owner_ of the bike from the plates, the trail would eventually lead to an angry boarding house proprietor demanding rent arrears. A truly dedicated investigation would uncover lots of conflicting stories of a man who had never held a steady job for long, may not even be using his real name and for now at least was definitely nowhere to be found in New York.

A flash of movement down an alley caught the rider's attention. The bike turned at the next corner and circled the block, arriving a couple of minutes later at the other end of the alley. Down the alley, shadowy figures were at work, loading up the back of a van with crates.

Leather-gloved hands gripped the handlebars more tightly as the rider felt a surge of excitement. This was it. The rumors were true.

The Foot Clan was back.

* * *

 **Next:** It's good to talk, black is the new black and a Turtle shaped hole is patched...

* * *

 


	4. Crossed Lines

The motorcycle was concealed within easy reach, leaning against a pile of scrap metal, invisible in the dark unless you knew it was there. The gates of the junkyard were in sight, the leather-clad rider hidden from view. The figures in black arrived, silently, out of the night.

They wore spandex masks stretched across the face, eyes protected by a thin mesh that bulged out and gave them an insect-like appearance. Armored pieces protected vulnerable soft tissue. Military surplus boots. A red bandana tied around the forehead.

Soldiers of the Foot Clan.

Two of them darted across the road from the junkyard gates and into the back of the parked van. Off for some more looting, no doubt – it looked like the Foot were building their empire up again, the same way as before. The rider's heart was racing. There was a decision to make right now.

Decision made.

Stepping out of hiding, the rider began climbing a pile of junk. This was further than they were used to venturing from the bike on these expeditions, but the risk was judged worth it. Upon reaching the top, the reward was a view past the fence that surrounded the junkyard and the sight of several more Foot ninja. Patrolling, repairing, training. A few of them were up on the roof of the large workshop hut at the back of the yard, fixing some damage.

The Foot had abandoned this base weeks ago in the chaos that had followed the Shredder's death. Why had they returned? Had something renewed their confidence? The rider ducked down when it looked like one of the ninja on the roof of the workshop was looking this way, and decided to go and ponder these questions in greater safety.

* * *

Master Splinter was not used to telephones. Here he was, however, waiting to be connected. His demeanor was, for him, unusually nervous.

"Haaai!" He slammed the receiver down in temper. Again, this was highly unusual behavior for Splinter. Much as he disliked these "answering machines", he had been expecting to be connected with one and hoped at least to have a chance to leave his message.

"Where are you, my sons...?" he pondered. He thought for a moment, and glanced again at the phone.

Time was difficult to gauge down here, but Splinter knew it was early, far too early, so he had some time to consider the options before having to commit himself to this course of action. His fallback plan. He felt, however, there was little choice.

* * *

The sun was rising, and the shaft of light that entered the apartment through the slightly open window was a warm yellow. _Must be about seven_ , thought April sleepily as she came quietly down the stairs in her nightgown. Early, but a little late for a burglar.

Tightening her grip on the cricket bat she held as a makeshift weapon, she took a look around. There it was again. Scrabbling.

There was a flash of movement in her peripheral vision, and the keys she had left on the table went clattering to the floor. Then _something_ darted across the room. _That's one big cockroach, or..._ Moving forward, bat at the ready, April came face to face with the intruder...

The rat held eye contact for barely a second, and scampered up onto the breakfast bar, jumped and was through the gap in the window and away.

The open window. The one she had definitely closed. April rushed over and looked out. Just the usual view, down onto the street. She slid the window closed and locked it again, and pushed hair out of her face.

 _Rats can open windows now…? What's going on here...?_ The phone rang, distracting her. She went over to the cordless handset and picked it up.

"Hi... Oh, _hi_... That's a co-incidence... No, never mind. It's just... unexpected. How are you...? OK. They're still not back…? You have...? Oh. OK." April held the phone against her ear with one shoulder as she fastened her wristwatch. The time showed two minutes past seven.

"Uh huh... Uh huh... OK, fine. That'd be fine... No, I got time, I don't need to be there early, not today... No, it's fine. Thanks for calling. See you soon... 'Bye."

She sat down, looking worried. "Something's wrong..."

* * *

Splinter sat in the abandoned subway car the Turtles had turned into a sitting area, fretting. He did not like involving April in this situation. It troubled him that the young woman had already been exposed to danger by her association with himself and his sons, and might be again, but he could see no other option.

So lost in his thoughts was he, he didn't perceive that he was no longer alone in the lair. This particular rat was being watched... by another rat.

* * *

The bandaged man concentrated, his eyes closed. He sat on a chair made of cannibalized junk in the middle of a space just as vast as the Turtles' lair, but totally lacking its warmth and homespun comfort.

Actually, the chair was more of a throne, and it was surrounded by an oddly shifting mat that on closer inspection would prove to be a seething mass of rats, all vying for position to be close to their master.

His eyes snapped open, and stared into the distance. "No. Keep watch for now. The time is not quite right."

* * *

Habit made April wear her usual heeled shoes for work, forgetting about the unusual access problems her detour presented. It had been a while. _Still_ , she reflected, descending the ladder to the disused subway station with some difficulty – at least most of the time it was possible to visit the Turtles' new home without having to wear waders. A decided improvement on their old one.

"Hi...!" Her voice echoed around the walls and high ceiling. No reply. She looked round sadly. This place just wasn't right without the Turtles, and seeing their stuff scattered round just brought home how much she'd missed them over the past few weeks.

Noticing a pizza box lying abandoned on a nearby surface she curiously raised the cardboard lid - and stepped back hurriedly, with a sharp cry of alarm.

Approaching it again, April raised the lid more cautiously. "Hi. Or maybe that should be "greetings". What's the correct procedure for opening diplomatic relations with a new life-form? No? Me neither." She laughed. "You're lucky. Pizza doesn't normally last long enough in this place to cool down, let alone grow a brand-new life form."

She wandered round the Turtles' home wistfully, pausing at Donatello's work bench and picking up the soldering iron for a moment, before turning back to the pizza box. "Hey, listen, maybe I should send you over to Professor Perry. I bet he'd love to have a look at you..." Noticing something, April cleared some debris to get a good look, and her expression changed to one of mild outrage.

"CK…" She wiped with her sleeve at the congealed tomato sauce stains on the CD box. "This is mine! I knew one of those guys had this…!" She broke off.

Splinter was watching from the window of the subway car. "I miss them too" he said.

* * *

"The Turtles' training is almost complete. What they are doing now is a vital stage in that training, the last they may ever get from me, and yet the very stage that requires my absence..." In the subway car, even as she carefully handed the cup of steaming tea to Splinter, April's eyes never left the elderly rat's face.

"So they needed to be cut off from everything familiar? A kind of... walkabout? I don't know... Could 'a used a heads-up. I thought there was something wrong." April sipped her own tea.

"In time of crisis the bond between them must be at its strongest. For they easily forget, as you have seen. They need to be separated from all distractions and forced to rely on that bond."

"And I'm one of those distractions, huh…?"

Splinter's head tilted ever so slightly.

"But now something's gone wrong... "

"I trust I am correct the Turtles could survive without this city, and I thought... I thought it would do fine without them for a while." April saw a change in Splinter's expression at that moment, as a haunted look took over. "Something is returning. I hear it sometimes, I feel it always..."

April was uneasy. "What kind of thing? Is it the Foot…? 'Cause"-

-"The Foot are unimportant, at least for now. The threat I feel is something else. I cannot even name it. Naming it would lend it more power. You must trust me..."

"Hey, I do. We need the Turtles back here. I get that. Have you tried calling again?"

"Still disconnected. Time is, I think, of great importance."

"Probably a fault. I'm sure Donny will have that phone working again soon."

"I cannot, I fear, take that chance."

April moved over to the sofa next to where Splinter sat, matching his cross-legged pose. "Splinter, your trust honors me" she said. "I'll go fetch them, of course I will. But how will I find them?"

Splinter seemed to consider this for a moment, and then said simply and anti-climactically "Here is the address". He handed over a scrap of paper from a notebook.

"Oh." April sat back, glancing at the scrawled writing. "OK." She smiled. "I thought you'd tell me to be _at one with myself_ or something mystical like that..."

A low rumble emanated from the ninja master and his ears flattened. "A most valuable skill, I'm sure, child. But one I think you may already possess."

 _Child? I'm twenty-six_. April hopped off the sofa and started pulling on her coat. "Uh, I need to go back home and change... " she thought aloud. "An hour to get underway, if the traffic's OK maybe another hour to get there... Don't worry. I borrowed some wheels, so I'll have the guys back here before you know it." Splinter looked at her feet as though he expected the wheels to be attached.

She made to leave the car, but turned back and added lightly "Hey, maybe I'd make a good ninja. What do you think? You should teach me." She laughed, and headed for the ladder to the surface, and was out of earshot when Splinter replied.

"An excellent suggestion" he said quietly.

April had almost reached the foot of the ladder when she remembered something, stopped and looked back. "OK if I use the phone? I'll be quick..." Without waiting for a reply, she went over to the phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hi... Pete... Yeah, it's me. Hey, you sound perky this morning... Yeah, I figured you might do that. Listen, is Irma in yet...? Yeah, that's right... My, uh, assistant..."

* * *

"Miss O'Neil, hi..." In a quiet corner of the Channel Three newsroom, Irma felt a twinge of guilt at the sound of the voice on the other end of the phone, and hoped that guilt wasn't somehow audible. "OK, April." She listened for a few seconds. "No, not at all. I understand, really. No, that's fine. I've got plenty to do in the meantime. No, I'll see you later. Yeah. 'Bye." She put the phone down, and thought for a moment.

Picking up the receiver, she dialed a short sequence of numbers and listened carefully, notepad and pen at the ready...

* * *

The two voices were back on the line. - _"OK... I think this might be it... She's gonna lead us to them..."_

\- _"You certain...?"_

\- _"No, 'course not. I just got a feeling... So, do you want us to follow, or bring her in now…?"_

There was a long pause. - _"First, find out where they are... Then you can bring her in."_

* * *

 **Next:** A celebrity goes incognito, Michelangelo declines pizza and everyone develops tunnel vision...

 

* * *

 


	5. Cool Reunion

The approaching motorcycle had to make its way round a long detour as it neared the disused factory complex. This meant they heard it long before it got there, and a while before it became visible. They had plenty of time to get ready, weapons in hand. They even had time to think about their response, if any, to the new arrival.

A luxury for a ninja.

"Hey, guy! Can we help ya?!" Raphael called. He and his brothers crouched behind a low wall surrounding the empty car parking lot - Donatello and Michelangelo were stifling giggles. Leonardo had his arms folded, and shook his head disapprovingly.

"Great, Raph. Well done. Now what?"

"Hey, we didn't order any pizza!" Michelangelo grinned at his own joke.

"And that is not something I ever thought I'd hear you say, Mikey" commented Leonardo.

"Yeah... I wonder if it means something" Michelangelo pondered.

"Probably just a phase" offered Donatello. "You are an adolescent."

"I'm an adowhatolescent?" Michelangelo replied. "Well, you're a... dorkolescent." Donatello looked at him steadily for a moment, and then with only the slightest movement slapped him on the arm with his staff.

"Ow!"

Raphael rolled over the wall in an elegant motion, stood up and strode toward the approaching bike. The rider slowed down and drew to a halt.

"Raph! Will you get back here!?" called Leonardo. He stood up and stepped out into the open. Why not? Their secrecy was blown now anyway. He racked his brains for a cover story... _Mascots?_

_Nah._

"Will you relax, Leo? Nobody's gonna believe this guy." Raphael gestured toward the bike. "I'm curious, that's all."

"What's the matter, ain't you ever seen four giant Turtles practicing martial arts before?" Popping his head over the wall and resting it on his hands _Laverne & Shirley_ style, Michelangelo grinned at the rider, who just sat on the bike and watched them.

"Hardly, Mikey" Donatello replied. "Four is very unusual. Three or even five is so much more common." He waved to the rider. "Hi. Don't be alarmed. We mean you no harm."

The rider, clad in a black leather jacket and leather pants, anonymous under the protective helmet, and somehow a little smaller and slighter than they were expecting,  got off the bike nimbly and stood with arms folded, head cocked slightly in... Was it amusement?

Not shock, not disbelief, certainly not fear. The rider, whoever it was, found them funny?

"Uh, guys..." Michelangelo said thoughtfully as he approached, peering closely at the rider, "I don't think _this_ guy is actually, you know, a _guy_..." Nodding as if to confirm his own diagnosis, he grinned as the rider gave him a thumbs up sign.

Leonardo walked over to join them both. "Hey, wasn't that bike Casey's…?" he pondered.

"Yeah..." said April, removing the helmet - The long dark hair that might have given her away was tucked under the upturned collar of the leather jacket. "And it still would be if _he'd_ gotten it back from the pawn shop instead'a me." The Turtles clustered around her excitedly. "Hi, guys!"

"Hi, April" said Donatello. _"Suziquatrotastic_. _"_

"Hi, Donny... Uh, thanks?" She handed the helmet to Michelangelo and watched indulgently as he looked at it for a moment before trying unsuccessfully to fit it on his own head. " _Definitely_ not a guy, Mikey. Well spotted." He shrugged bashfully, and left the helmet hanging on one of the bike's handlebars.

" _Suzi-quatro-tastic_...?" Raphael murmured skeptically. Donatello shrugged diffidently, standing by his made-up adjective.

"Yeah, April, nice outfit" remarked Leonardo politely. "Very shiny."

Hey, you know, when you're a celebrity, going incognito isn't so easy" April teased, looking around the four of them. "But then, you guys would know all about that." Realizing something, she turned back to Donatello and touched his arm. "Hey, you got your voice back! You sound like your old self!"

"Yeah" said Donatello casually. "Turned out it was laryngitis."

"We never even knew he had a larynge" said Michelangelo. "Hey - where _did_ Casey go, anyway?" he asked innocently. Raphael glanced at him, appalled, and slapped a hand over his eyes.

Leonardo shook his head and spoke quietly, slowly and clearly. "Mikey, you know we don't talk about that. _Not when_..." He tailed off, but repeatedly indicated toward April with subtle sideways movements of his head.

"It's OK, Leo, really..." April held up a hand. "We both needed some space for a while..." she recited, removing her gloves, her words sounding very well-rehearsed. "I told him he needed to grow up a little..." She pursed her lips. "OK, a lot."

Michelangelo turned to Leonardo. "That's a big ask" he remarked.

"…And you know, according to him, I've changed" April added scathingly, slapping the gloves down onto the bike's handlebars. "Hey, get this - I'm a _different person_..."

"Meta textual" commented Donatello. The others gave him a curious look.

"It'll be fine" said Raphael gruffly, uncomfortable.

"Hiiiiiii, Raph..." said April playfully, skipping over to him and adjusting the trailing ends of his red bandana. "You doing OK? Had, _um_ , any solo adventures lately?" She raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Anything you wanna share...?"

"Well, I suppose..." Raphael began cautiously and a little suspiciously.

Leonardo interrupted. "Hey, not that it isn't nice to see you, April"-

-"It's aaaaalways nice to see Aaaaaapril..." Michelangelo drawled, sidling up and snuggling against her, head on her shoulder. Laughing, she pushed him away.

"...But I think you've got a reason for coming out here, haven't you?" Leonardo continued, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

* * *

The reunion was being watched. _"Well? What did you see?"_

_"...It's them. It's, uh, actually them."_

_"Finally."_

* * *

"It sounds like he's had one of his premonitions" Leonardo said uneasily.

April perched on the wall they had hidden behind, with the Turtles gathered around facing her. "Look, guys, I'm just going to go ahead and say it. Could it be him? Is the Shredder back...?" She shifted nervously, hands slapping down onto leather-encased knees. "I mean the Foot are still around, I've seen them..."

The Turtles all shivered, but as one shook their heads. "Nuh-uh. The Shredder's dead." Leonardo was firm on that. "We checked" he added flatly.

"Wait a minute" said Raphael. "With all that mutagen in his system, can we be sure the Shredder was even human? Could he have come back to life? Maybe some crazy Professor stole his body and..." He tailed off, embarrassed.

"Yeah, Raph, or maybe he's a werewolf" Donatello mocked, earning a bad-tempered glare.

"Will you just settle down? The Shredder is dead. Let's not get carried away here" Leonardo calmed them. "But you know, whatever is wrong, we'd better head back."

"What do you think, Mikey?" Donatello asked, noticing his brother's preoccupied air. The others looked at Michelangelo curiously. Had he some thought that might help them make sense of this?

"Uh... Definitely extra pepperoni... Back to basic..." said Michelangelo. The others looked at him blankly. "You know. Our first pizza, when we get back..." When puzzled silence greeted him, he explained further. "We need to cleanse our palate, guys, and work our way back up to the advanced stuff."

The tension broken, the others laughed. "That gets my vote" said Raphael.

"There was a bunch of magazines lying around, and Mikey's been reading the Robert Carrier columns" Donatello explained to April, and she nodded conspiratorially. Then, a thought striking her, she turned to Raphael.

"Oh, yeah, Stanley..."

Michelangelo continued on his own train of thought. "Although... In fact, you know guys, don't shoot me down, OK..."

"Miss McWilliams says hi. And to tell you, you were the perfect gentleman..." April smiled mischievously.

"I was thinking... Hawaiian...?" offered Michelangelo hesitantly.

"Huh?" a puzzled Raphael frowned. "Miss McWhat? Who's that? Who are you talking about?" The others nodded sagely as he looked around for support.

"Who's that? Yeah, right, Stanley" added Donatello.

"...OK, OK, maybe not so basic. It's just being stuck out here, you know, with only one pizza place and no delivery... I think it's made me go kinda crazy."

"What? I don't get this. What are you-?" Flustered, Raphael would have gone a deep red to match his bandana if it was physically possible. He stood abruptly. "Come on, you guys. Let's go."

"Yeah, Stanley, you change that subject."

"I was thinking... Maybe we could try quiche."

"Good one, Mikey."

"You liked that, huh Leo?"

"You almost had us."

* * *

_"Looks like they're... Yeah. They're going down there. Underground. We're gonna lose them."_

_"Don't worry. We do this right, they'll come to us. On our terms."_

* * *

"Come on, guys" April said incredulously. "You're really going back to New York in this?" Still on the ladder up to the surface, she watched as in the tunnel below the Turtles packed what little they had brought with them onto a weird go-kart like contraption.

"Yeah" was Donatello's reply. "Beats walking." He indicated the dark tunnel stretching ahead. "It's a pretty long way back to New York."

April eyed the water dripping from the rounded ceiling of the tunnel and raised an eyebrow. "And you guys are OK with that...?"

"Ask me when we get there" said Raphael wearily, clambering on board.

"I mean, it looks like quite a lot of water has passed through here recently..."

"It's a water tunnel" said Leonardo cheerfully. "It sends water from the lake all the way to the city when they need an extra supply. When the pressure gets a little low, they open the sluice gates over at the lake and let water rush right along here."

"Yeah..." pondered April. "Along _here_... Doesn't that bother anyone?"

"It's OK" replied Donatello. "It's not in use very often. In an hour, we'll be back home."

"If you're sure... It goes all the way back to the city?"

"Can we stop talking about the water now?" asked Raphael.

Donatello turned to him. "Right along here it goes... In a roaring, rushing, torrent..." he said with relish. "Watery... Water." He moved right up next to Raphael's ear and barked "Water!"

"Most of the way, yeah" replied Leonardo. "It's why we picked this place."

"See?" said Michelangelo. "We're not just pretty, we're smart too."

"Well, I am" said Donatello.

"OK, some of us are smarter, some of us are just plain pretty." Michelangelo licked a finger and slicked back an imaginary eyebrow.

"Well, I'll see you all there" said April. "Go easy on them, Donny."

Donatello was strapping himself into the driver's seat. "You sure you won't..."

"Uh, it's tempting, it really is" she said unconvincingly. "But unless you got room for the bike on there..."

"OK, April" said Leonardo. "See you in New York."

"If we get there in one piece" said Raphael quietly.

Smiling at that, April started climbed back up the ladder and out of sight. "'Bye, you guys!" she called, receiving a collective "'Bye, April!" in response.

Donatello turned to the others. "Any of you guys get travel sick?"

"It's too early to tell" replied Raphael. He gestured toward the tunnel ahead. "Would you just get on with it already? 'Sooner we start, the sooner it's over."

"Raph's feeling queasy already" said Michelangelo.

"OK, guys. Here we go." Donatello started up the engine and the kart started down the tunnel with an abrupt motion that threw them forward then back. After a moment, the motion settled down.

"This isn't too bad..." said Raphael cautiously. Then Donatello eased a lever forward, and the kart shot ahead at great speed. As they hurtled forward, Donatello lost control a little and they ran up onto the walls, the Turtles finding themselves at a steep sideways angle but held in their seats by inertia.

"Heh heh. Should we go back for Raph's stomach?"

"Shut up, Mikey!"

* * *

_"They've been down there a while. How do you know she hasn't gone with them?"_

_"Because, my slow-witted friend, of the motorcycle. Wait... Yeah. Here she is..."_

* * *

**Next:** April just can't get arrested, Splinter meets the boss and the Turtles are in their element...


	6. In the Hands of the Foot

Back to the city. Back to work. April sighed. Back to Irma Langinstein.

She made ready to leave. Pulling her gloves back on, she climbed onto the bike, tucked her hair back under the upturned collar of her leather jacket and finally donned the helmet. Well, that had gone fairly well - she wondered what kind of crazy adventure her strange new friends would be dragging her into this time.

The police car approached slowly from behind her, so she didn't notice till it was only a few yards away. Twisting round to look at it curiously, April lifted the helmet's visor. The windows reflected the weak sunlight so that she couldn't see inside the vehicle.

The car slowed to a crawl as it passed, allowing her a glimpse of two uniformed police officers in the front seats, and came to a halt a few meters away. The front passenger door opened. Something didn't feel quite right here...

"Uh, hi, officers!" she called. "Was I speeding back there? Sorry, new bike. I'm kinda rusty. Haven't ridden one of these since, um, college..." April was rambling, quite deliberately, giving herself time to think. "I suppose you wanna see my license, huh…?" She pulled out the choke as casually as she could and then gripped the bike's handlebars tightly - The feeling of security it gave her was as comforting as the squeaking sound, and just as irrational.

The silence from the car was unnerving now. Had they seen the Turtles? How was she ever going to explain that?

Finally, the passenger got out and April recognized one of the young cops who had escorted her from the cordoned-off area the previous evening. About to make a flippant remark about jurisdictional rights, she stopped. Every instinct she had told her she was in trouble.

Releasing her grip on the handlebars for a moment, she shifted the gear to neutral...

One of the car's rear doors opened and a wiry figure dressed in black got out - April's blood chilled at the sight of a Foot ninja. He must have concealed himself by lying down on the seats, she realized numbly as her stomach experienced the arrival of a whole colony of butterflies.

"Hi...!" she gasped. "I think it's my friends you want. Lemme get them for 'ya'!"

The ninja approached her slowly, masked face unreadable. April thought fast, knowing how quickly they could move. Was there any way she could start up the bike and ride away before he got to her?

She didn't see the other ninja, the one who had moved up behind her silently, till it was too late.

* * *

"Don - How long is this gonna take…?!"

"Under the lake?! Nah, Raph, this is just under the ground! It runs right along the side of the freeway!"

"I didn't-! Ah... Never mind!"

"Never mind what?!" Donatello took the kart down a gear and the engine settled down, letting the Turtles hear each other speak again.

Now, however, Raphael didn't much feel like talking. Just sulking.

* * *

"Aaaaaaahhh... I don't know, guys, this'll be kinda cramped...! You know, I don't even need a lift back to town - I got my own wheels...!" Dragging her toward the cop car with a vice-like grip on her arms, April's assailant released one of them and clamped a gloved hand over her mouth. She clutched at the hand with her free one, but the ninja was too strong.

The other ninja waited, plus the young cop in the driver's seat. Four of them in total. As they got to the car, the other masked ninja leaned in close and spoke, his amused voice slightly muffled by the mask. "We insist."

The car departed, fully-laden with two fake cops, two genuine ninjas and one reluctant passenger. The cold wind whistled through the empty parking lot, and the only sign that anything unusual had happened there recently was the abandoned bike and the discarded crash helmet next to it on the ground.

* * *

The Manhattan Municipal building stood 580 feet tall and by anyone's standards was a magnificent architectural achievement. Anyone working there from day to day might well be disposed to boast about it. Bryan Bryant worked in the basement.

Bryan was _the sewer guy_. As nicknames go, if he had been given a choice he would have preferred something like Skip.

New York's public infrastructure badly needed work. Bryan let that be known to whoever would listen. That's probably why his invite to the office parties above often got lost on the way down here.

Special Advisor to the Water Board. Sounded impressive, but Bryan knew it was a job with, in practice, less power than the janitor who changed his light bulb. They probably assumed he had done something terrible to end up in this job, but none of them guessed that Bryan had in fact worked hard to end up just where he was. Ever since his uncle had been badly hurt working in the sewers, and shortly afterward disappeared, Bryan had wanted to be here.

His office light flickered. Looking up from his blueprints, Bryan sighed. So much for the janitor. He had reported that light fitting a dozen times. Well, he would just have to report it again. And again. And again. However many times it took.

"Sleep..." The voice had a sombre, gravelly timbre.

The dark shape that loomed up in the doorway startled Bryan. Only, however, for a moment. As if a light had been turned off, his face became impassive.

"My lord." He waited for instructions.

The bandaged man stepped forward. "I have said already, you need not call me that. You are of the sacred blood." If Bryan took that in, he gave no sign.

"I have not had a report from you in some time."

" Everything proceeds as planned."

The bandaged man's attitude softened, as did the expression on his deeply-lined face. "I am... sorry you are kept here. But your task is vital. I need just a little longer. There must be no interference."

"The new work is considered far too expensive. The committees are still arguing over it. Meeting after meeting, nothing is decided."

"Good. We are almost ready..." The bandaged man's head snapped to the side, and his watery eyes clouded over. "There has been... I must go..." He turned to leave, before turning around and, as an afterthought, clicking his fingers. "Wake."

Bryan went back to his desk, and by the time he got there and looked up there was nothing to indicate he hadn't been alone the whole time. The light flickered. He looked up and sighed.

So much for the janitor...

* * *

Splinter tried to meditate. He told himself he need only wait till his sons returned. He would decide on a course of action and they would execute his plan. But the sense of time running out was palpable. It had been some time since he had heard the music. The presence of the... creature was still there, however. He could feel the enemy out there, somewhere near, growing in strength.

He hopped to his feet. It was no longer possible simply to wait. Events were spiraling out of control, and so much of it was his fault.

It was time to take action.

* * *

The bandaged man stumbled as he entered his lair. Just walking from one place to another was a challenge when he was simultaneously controlling agents at work in a dozen different locations - One in particular...

He slammed down onto his chair, and thankfully gave himself over completely. The images filled his mind, the view through his rats' eyes across the city and beyond. He narrowed his immediate focus down, down, down... There. Upstate New York... Lakeside...

The sluice gate control room.

* * *

"I spy..."

"Water!"

"Hey, you're right! How did you- Hey, never mind... I spy..."

"Wall!"

"You got it again, Donny!"

"Mikey! Give it up!"

"OK, OK, Raph. There's no need to make that weird sound."

"What weird sound?"

"I dunno. That kind of weird, roaring sound. Kinda... Rumbling."

"That sound that's a bit like lots and lots of water…? Getting closer...?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"Guys... We might be in trouble."

"Donny... Are we in trouble?"

"Yeah, Leo. The sluice gates must have been opened."

At that moment, the first wave of water along the tunnel hit them, and Donatello struggled to retain control. "OK, this is bad..." Despite his efforts, the kart got out of control and was swept round a bend in the tunnel and was carried along at worrying speed. Ahead, there was a clanging sound.

"What was that?"

"I think there might be excess water in here..."

"Hey, no foolin' you!"

"So they're gonna get rid of it."

"How?"

"Using the, um... thing up ahead."

"What thing?"

"The, um... verfvikleshivvt..."

"What?"

"It's a vertical shaft, OK...?!"

"Uh... Vertical. That's the uppy-downy way, right?"

"Yeah."

And it'll be a rough ride, but we'll basically be OK, right...?"

"Uh... No, it'll be a rough ride and we'll basically be in pieces."

"OK, we're going to jump, all right? All of us..."

"I'm not so sure that's such a great idea either, Leo..."

"Any other ideas?"

As they hurtled toward their doom, the four of them wordlessly joined hands and braced themselves. And as the rim of the vertical shaft got nearer and nearer and the rushing water became deafening, they all tried to drown out the noise. One word. A word that gave them comfort in this most trying of times. A word that embodied all their defiance of an unkind fate...

"COWABUNGA!"

* * *

"I am here." Splinter was outwardly calm.

Turning to view the tiny figure, the bandaged man was prepared to let his visitor believe he had arrived unannounced. Splinter still didn't understand that nothing he could do could possibly surprise him. Though a remarkable creature, Splinter was still a rat. The bandaged man had power over all rodents.

The body he dwelt in was between forty and fifty years old, but the spirit within had endured for millennia, and would go on enduring for millennia more. He had wanted Splinter to come to him, and here he was. He stood up and moved over to Splinter, his rats parting to make a corridor for him as he went.

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. "We meet again..." said Splinter's opponent.

The Rat King.

* * *

Leo had lost the others. As far as he knew he was the only survivor. For at least another five seconds. On the very edge of the vertical shaft, holding on precariously, water rushing past him, as he felt his hand slipping, he revised that down a little. Three, maybe. Two at least.

His hand slipped.

* * *

 **Next:** The bad guy is old news, sisters are doing it for themselves and Splinter lets the legs do the walking...


	7. Rat Trap

**Now minus a very long time...**

The dilapidated hut was miles from anywhere, and that is why it had been chosen. The fewer people put at risk by what was to happen here, the better. A battle was to be fought. A battle of the body, of the mind and of the soul.

Here, the Rat Demon would fall. Or he would be unstoppable for all time.

The wind howled through the holes in the timber walls. Even the very sturdy men standing by with axes and knives looked round in terror. The dare not even glance at the figure on the bench, stretched out, writhing against the makeshift bonds holding him – no, it – in place.

The shrilling, moaning, wailing and low intonation from the three sisters in their flowing robes, together in a peculiar discordant harmony, did not help their peace of mind. Their hair was wild, their faces flushed and intense and ageless. Their eyes alive with the wisdom of the ancients.

As their voices reached a crescendo, the door was thrown open and a furious black-clad man forced his way in. Looking at the sisters incredulously, he turned to the bearded man standing nearest him.

"Jehan..! It can't be so. Not you..? When I heard, I could scarcely believe..."

"Father, listen to me..."

"Listen? No. You must stop this." The priest turned toward the sisters, enraged. The three barely seemed to notice his existence – one had glanced over at him briefly, that was all. Then he looked at the writhing body on the bench, and paled. He walked slowly toward it, and met its gaze with an effort of will. He felt for the crucifix around his neck.

The eyes snapped open, and stared up at the priest. A rictus grin spread across the face. "Good" came a rumbling voice the priest felt in his chest as much as heard. The priest pulled out a long knife from his cloak, and moved to deliver a quick decisive strike.

"No!" Jehan moved forward, and slammed the priest to the floor, and the knife went clattering under the bench. He pulled the priest to his feet and the two struggled.

"Why..?" panted the priest. "It must die..." By mutual consent they stopped pushing at each other and stepped back. The priest gestured at the sisters. "Why this..? The creature can be killed. Why take such a risk?"

"It's my brother!" Jehan shouted. The priest gaped at him.

"He has been possessed" Jehan went on. "I can no more abandon him than I could- Father, let them continue. I am assured, they can banish this creature to the netherworld..."

"At what cost?" demanded the priest. "Yes" he snarled, looking at the sisters with loathing. "They will have their price, and I dread to imagine it..."

"Blood of Hyn'tnn!" one of the sisters yelled, and the others began incorporating it into their wild chanting. The priest was horrified.

Just then, another sound was heard over the wind. It could for a moment have been mistaken for the wind itself, but it soon became clear something was approaching the hut across the rough ground between it and the woods. As one man looked out, he saw a dark mass envelop the ground and spread toward him. He screamed and fell back inside, slamming the door shut.

"They're coming!" he babbled, terrified.

"Now. It must be now..." The priest threw himself under the bench and retrieved his knife. Before he had even stood up, Jehan punched him hard and he fell. "You must let me..." he gasped.

A boy moved forward from the assembled men, knife in his hand. "Father, I will do it" he called, and before any could stop him he plunged the knife into the Rat King's chest.

The hut seemed to go dark, and the sisters stopped their intonations. "No..." one of them said quietly.

With a rattle from his throat, the Rat King expired and all of them held their breath. "Is it over..." someone asked quietly.

The door seemed to explode inwards at that moment, and parts of the ceiling gave way, and rats came in from all directions. Squealing, hissing, biting. As they all tried to find some sort of refuge, the rats enveloped the body on the bench, their bodies all working together and resembling some sort of liquid in the way they moved over him. Seeing their chance, the sisters fled through the destroyed doorway.

Jehan stepped as close as he dared. "Brother..." he called warily. Suddenly, there was complete silence. A human shaped mass of matted fur lay on the bench, pulsing in and out.

Then they moved again. As one, the rats left the body of Jehan's brother and as he stood in horrified paralysis they moved to him. His feet were covered and the collective of rats enveloped his legs, his waist, his arms, shoulders. Finally, as he screamed with no sound, unable to get the sound out, they covered him completely. The pulsing began again.

The priest felt he had to act. But what could he possibly do? He got to his feet and stood before Jehan. As he watched, the rats started to leave him. As the face was revealed, the priest gasped in shock. It was Jehan's familiar features, but something had changed. The eyes were intelligent, malevolent, calculating. The voice that issued forth was not his.

" _Father. Come, join us_..." Jehan reached out an arm and the rats adhering to it launched themselves at the priest's face. In a last moment of anguish, he could think of only one thing.

He had failed...

* * *

**Now minus 15 years and 6 months...**

Splinter was trying to meditate. No easy task. Quieting his mind was far from straightforward, given the momentous changes that had overtaken him in the last few months. He had gone from being a small, simple creature of instinct to a thinking, reasoning being. His world had expanded from his safe, warm cage with occasional glimpses of a larger world to...

What it had become the day his master Yoshi was killed. As it always did when he thought of this event, his ear pulsed with a dull pain. Curiously the pain was located in the chunk that was missing, severed by an instinctive swipe of his enemy's blade.

His concentration snapped completely as he heard a clattering sound.

One of his little charges had escaped from the makeshift pen he had made for them. "P-pizza" it croaked. Looking up, it smiled at him. No, not it. He. And he had a name. Glancing at the fleck of red paint he had left on the small creature's shell, Splinter led it back to the pen where the other three were snoozing quietly.

"Raphael... So independent. No doubt that will change... Not pizza time yet. Later."

_Hello again..._

Splinter looked up. That voice again. He thought he had imagined it. The tunnel seemed to grow darker around him. He thought he could see a figure, human-shaped, a few meters away, though that could easily have been his imagination.

He chose not to investigate. The more he engaged with the voice, the more distinct it became, a fact he had already learned in the time he had been here.

_Splinter..._

How did the voice know that was what his master called him? Splinter was still not used to his new-found ability to speak, and it was a definite fact that he had shared that name with no other living being. Yet somehow the voice knew.

_Join me, Splinter. You know you wish it... You want to belong again..._

The worst thing was, the voice was not lying. He had never trusted its motives, but it had never lied. Splinter lived from moment to moment, even now he had the ability to imagine a different way of being, because this new world was a strange and hostile place. He did want the certainties his far simpler younger self had enjoyed in Master Yoshi's cage.

The voice knew him. That was what made it dangerous.

_Splinter!_

The voice's sudden anger reassured Splinter. He got the impression the voice was not as powerful or influential as it believed itself to be. At least not yet. He knew in that moment he was strong enough to resist its pull.

 _Go_ , Splinter told the voice. _Go, and never return_.

_I cannot promise that... You will not resist me forever..._

Perhaps not, Splinter conceded. It was possible that managing to resist now was the best anyone could hope for.

* * *

**Now...**

Splinter and the Rat King walked slowly round each other. If Splinter was remotely troubled by the difference in size between himself and his opponent, he gave no sign of it.

"I have been calling. You have done well to resist so long. But there was only so long you could hold out..."

"A wise man does not underestimate an enemy."

"If we really were enemies, you would do well to be aware of that yourself." The Rat King produced his flute and put it to his lips. It almost got there, till Splinter, in a blur of sudden movement, sent it clattering to the ground with a shuriken launched from his hand.

Far from being annoyed, the Rat King seemed delighted. "Thank you" he said. "Every such thing you do makes me stronger. Seeing a flicker of reaction from Splinter, he continued. "You didn't know that?"

"I suspected" Splinter replied hesitantly. He sat on the floor, legs crossed. Some of the rats moved forward independently to investigate him, but none had the courage to get too close. "So, my first instinct was correct. I must do nothing..." His eyes closed.

"There is nothing you can do to counter me."

Splinter's eyes opened again. "What if... I was to kill you?"

"That would be inconvenient" admitted the Rat King. "But no more than that."

That made Splinter smile. "I may be able to do nothing, but others are not so hampered. And they are coming."

It was the Rat King's turn to smile, though he did not choose to mention the Turtles' fate. "We could go on like this for days, but rather than that just answer me one question. One question only..."

"Yes?"

"Do you remember standing up?"

Splinter felt a jolt of alarm as he realized he was standing again. Whatever had commanded his legs to unfold and lift his body, it had not been him. The chilling implications started to go through his mind. Before he could come to terms with that, he started walking, one leg in front of the other, a little jerkily at first but with increasing smoothness. He dug his stick into the ground fiercely in an attempt to halt his own body, but the arm then threw it away. He was no longer in control.

"Merely in coming here, you have surrendered to me" said the Rat King. "Whether you knew that or not."

Splinter gritted his teeth with the effort of resisting the alien commands to his own body, but he could do nothing...

* * *

Leonardo was floundering. After losing his initial grip, he had managed to catch a barely adequate hold with his other hand, but his grip on the edge of the vertical shaft hadn't been very secure to begin with and the torrent of water rushing noisily past, buffeting and disorienting him, really wasn't helping. He tried to sneak a look around a couple of times, searching desperately for any sign of the others. Fairly sure he had passed out for a few seconds back there, around the time they evacuated the kart, which was now smashed to pieces, he had no idea what had happened to his brothers.

_Isn't my whole life supposed to flash in front of me..? So much for that..._

Then, as if things weren't bad enough, something hit him on the head!

* * *

 **Next:** Leo lets go, April is fit to be tied and... The Turtles return...


	8. Return of the Turtles

" _Leo...! Grab this...! Grab it...!_ "

Leonardo looked round, confused. The voice came again. " _Leo!_ " He looked up.

Directly above, in line with the one he was on the brink of falling into, there was another entrance to a vertical shaft. To his delight, it looked like all three of his brothers were up there. Donatello, or he presumed it was Donatello, it was difficult to tell, was dangling a staff toward him, and that was what had tapped him on the head.

"Ya hear me? Grab hold!"

Leonardo let go, a surge of adrenaline making him giddy, and grabbed for the staff. The others lifted it and him a few feet and he was then grabbing hold of sturdy green forearms and being hauled up to join them. In the process of this, Donatello's bo slipped from his hands, was lost in the churning water below and disappeared down the shaft.

"Ain't we meant to like water?!" Raphael protested, shouting over the noise.

"You know..." gasped Leonardo, "I'd visit again, but I wouldn't wanna live there!" They all laughed, out of sheer relief at being alive.

"Flushed..." said Donatello, lamenting his lost staff.

* * *

"Great! An epidemic of rats and Channel Three's number one reporter isn't anywhere to be found." Phil wasn't even particularly angry, more sort of resigned. He had long since accepted this wasn't going to be a good day. The biggest news story in weeks, and him and his people had been caught napping.

He pulled a small electronic device from his pocket and looked at it, worried. "Still, it's not like April not to answer her pager. I hope she's OK."

"It's OK, Phil, I'm here, I'm here." Out of breath and still finishing off his tie, Jim McNaughton hurried across the newsroom. His fleshy face red with exertion, he carefully arranged the wisp of hair left on top of his head in the reflective screen of one of the TV monitors.

"Here comes number... Uh, not one anyway" Phil muttered. Out loud he called "Jim! Good to see you, glad you could make it."

"Hey, you know me, Phil. Always on call. Gravitas on demand. I should have cards made up with that... Whad'ya think, huh?"

"That sounds just great, Jim. Listen, need you to sit in on a few extra bulletins. I want somebody who can think on their feet for this one, OK?"

"You bet, Phil. Always happy to oblige."

"And if you need anything, Irma will handle it. Just ask." Phil hurried toward his office, muttering "Not even two..."

"Right..." Jim looked around the bustling newsroom smugly. Irma caught his attention, hurrying across the room with all the cares of the world on her narrow shoulders. He clicked his fingers. It took Irma a moment to realize that was meant to get her attention. She pointed at herself questioningly.

"Uh, yeah... Alma... Coffee, two sugars, just a splash of milk. The tiniest splash – no more, no less. I'll be at my desk if anyone needs me."

Irma took stock of that, and recited the order. "One splash of coffee, two milks, no more sugar. Right, boss." And with that, she got on with more important things.

* * *

[BEEP]

The small electronic device lay abandoned on the ground, and seemed to be taking it to heart. Every few seconds a sound issued from it, sounding more insistent each time. Several pairs of feet ran past. Green feet.

[BEEP]

Now the Turtles were in an alley, in the shadow of the buildings on either side and with no one to see them, Raphael stopped and stood shaking himself to get rid of some of the excess water.

"Raph – we gotta get back."

"Just gimme a second, Leo."

[BEEP]

Donatello moved over to the fallen pager and picked it up. After examining it for a few seconds, he found a way to shut it off.

"Nicely done, Donny" said Raphael.

"So, you're talking to me again?"

"Don't let it go to your head."

Donatello examined the pager. "I'm sure I've seen one of these before..."

" _Mmmmmmfff...!_ "

"You guys! Over here!" As Michelangelo held back to keep a lookout, Raphael led the way toward a group of four men sitting back to back on the ground - tied together efficiently with rope and gagged with duct-tape. Leonardo cautiously investigated a vehicle abandoned close by, all four doors flung open. A police car.

"Say... These guys look kinda familiar..." said Raphael suspiciously.

"Hey! Expert coming through. I got this." Going to the nearest, Donatello crouched over the dubious-looking man – "You won't feel a thing" – and in one smooth motion removed the tape from his mouth.

"Yeeeooow!"

Donatello stepped back, deflated. "Sorry. I really thought I'd got the hang of that this time."

"Hey, man, it's fine" said the man, as Leonardo cut him free. "Listen"-

-"Hey, don't I know you?" Leonardo asked, standing back.

"Um... I'm not sure. Maybe. Have we met?" replied the man sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. The Turtles looked at each other, and then mimed a collective _Are you kidding?_

"You're kidding, right?" Raphael shoved his way through Donatello and Leonardo.

"OK, OK, you got me... You guys stopped us when we did a place not far from here a while ago..." He put his hands up and showed his palms. "We're bad guys, OK, we're bad guys, but I'm telling you, the ones who did this are worse than us. Far worse..."

"…And who was that?" asked Raphael impatiently.

"Those crazy ninja guys. They used to be everywhere for a while. No sign of them for weeks, now suddenly they're back with a vengeance. They arrived in a cop car," he said, indicating the abandoned vehicle. "They beat us up, they tie us up, they throw the girl in the back of our van and vamoose. Whole thing done in five minutes."

"The Foot" said Leonardo, grimly. "Just like April said." Then the realization hit him. "Hey, what girl...?"

"Yeah, looked like they'd kidnapped her. Weird thing is I thought she looked like the news lady from Channel Three... April something...?

"What?!" erupted Raphael.

"You know who I mean? Can't be, obviously, but"-

-"Describe her" demanded Leonardo.

"Uh..." The man shrugged. "Brunette... " He held his hand in front of him about level with Leonardo's head, moved it down a little then up a little, settling once again for about level. "Um... kinda... really hot..." he offered, then added "I mean, like, _really_ hot...", and tailed off as Leonardo and Raphael leaned in toward him with menacingly hooded eyes.

Donatello slapped the man's back, making him jump. "A little objectifying…" he reproved cheerfully, "But, y'know, also helpful." The others still looked hostile.

Keen to be helpful some more, the man pointed at the ground a few feet away. "Look... That was hers." The Turtles turned to look where he had pointed, and Leonardo picked up the object. A black leather glove. It looked tiny clutched in his large three-digit hand.

"April..." he confirmed sadly. They all looked at it, downcast. There was no doubt at all now - she was a prisoner of the Foot Clan. The three Turtles shared a look, taking in that awful news.

"They threw it down there before they left" the man continued. He scratched his chin. "I suppose, uh..." he thought aloud, "they must have wanted you to find it, huh...?" He looked round them as if inviting thanks.

"They must have followed her" reasoned Raphael. "When she came to find us..."

"We shouldn't have left her there" said Leonardo. "Hang on..." He thought for a second, flustered. "April's smart..." he added, and turned back to the man. "Did she say anything?" he asked urgently. "Anything that could help us find her?"

"Or left us a trail? An actual trail of breadcrumbs would be nice..." mused Donatello. "Or even better – pizza crumbs. Guys...?" He was ignored, except by one of the bound and gagged criminals looking curiously up at him. "Sometimes I get lonely" Donatello confided.

"Actually, you know what, we never got much of a chance to shoot the breeze..." the leader replied.

"OK. Good point" said Leonardo, patting his arm. "Uh, we'd better go, OK?" He waved to the tied and gagged criminals, as their colleague went about releasing them. "'Bye, you guys!" A chorus of muffled pleasantries ensued.

Leonardo turned back, adding "Um, be good. At least, you know, try. Otherwise, be seeing you again. And next time might not be so congenial, if you get my drift."

"Just one thing" said the lead criminal. "You're... Just to check. You're all giant vigilante Turtles, have I got that right?"

"Hey, there's no foolin' this guy" Raphael commented wryly.

"Yeah..." replied Leonardo. "Is that OK?"

"Hey, takes all sorts. And you know what? In this city, I see stranger things all the time."

"I bet you do..." Leonardo gave one last wave and then he, Raphael and Donatello broke into a run. Donatello held up the piece of silver tape, still adhering to his hand.

"Hey, Leo, look..."

"What…?"

"It's a running gag."

"Donny... Don't do jokes. Stick to your strengths."

Michelangelo came running towards them. "Hey, guys, there's some cop cars coming this way. We better-" He pointed toward the gang of thieves. "Hey... Don't I know them...?" Leonardo turned him round and gave him a gentle shove in the other direction.

"Yeah, Mikey, we've been through all that. Let's get gone. We have to help April."

"April? What's happened to April?"

"We'll tell you on the way."

"The way where?"

"We'll tell you that on the way too."

* * *

"Oona...?"

Distractedly, Irma looked up, holding the phone receiver near her ear. Jim McNaughton stood there. "Did you forget something?" he asked.

"Um, possibly. I'm spinning quite a lot of plates right now."

"Coffee, two sugars, splash of milk, no more no"-

-"Yeah..." Irma picked up the cup sitting on the desk next to her, and handed it to Jim. He looked at it blankly.

"This is warm..."

"Yeah, it's fine. I haven't touched it, forgot it was there. Gosh, I'm busy, I didn't know this job would be so hectic." She smiled delightedly. A voice issued faintly from the receiver, and she put it to her ear. "Hi... Yeah, hi... It was about tracing that number, yeah. Sorry, I know it's an unusual request, but it's pretty important... Yeah... Uh huh... Uh huh..."

Forgotten, Jim found he just didn't know how to handle this. He looked at the coffee, tasted it and walked away with a brief backward glance.

"What do you mean, impossible? I know this- OK, but I know this number has been active recently... OK. You're the expert... 'Bye." Irma put the phone down, and considered what she had learned. She looked down again at the scrawled note - _Renaissance boys_.

It was the key to what was going on – Somehow, she knew it. She couldn't explain how, she just did. She'd managed to find out where the number would be, if such a place existed. Which, of course, it didn't.

Irma, however, knew it did – she had called and let it ring with no answer. So, she was going to go to this non-existent place and see exactly what was there.

Grabbing her dark blue duffel coat, Irma hurried out of the building, barely able to suppress her glee. She was investigating. Living her dream! Who knew what she would find where she was going? Maybe she would even find out where April had disappeared to.

Not that Irma was particularly worried. No doubt she was just fine...

* * *

No sooner had the stolen van screeched to a halt than April was hauled out and hurried across the large junkyard. Momentarily pulling free from the Foot ninja holding her, only to be seized again with an unshakeable grip, she paused to look back at the entrance, as if hoping to see a friendly face, or even just a face not covered by a mask, but her captors kept her moving.

"What's the hurry…? We being timed...?" she demanded, defiance masking her fear. She recognized the place both from the Turtles' description and her own more recent reconnaissance - Normally she would be glad to get to the end of such an uncomfortable journey, but not when _this_ was her destination.

Since she was last here, security had been _seriously_ tightened. Masked and armed ninja patrolled the area ceaselessly. Every entrance and exit to the yard, including every manhole cover, was now blocked or guarded. The repairs to the workshop at the back - after part of the roof had been destroyed by a flying Donatello - were complete.

Round the side of the workshop, Jake and Matt, the Foot's two fake cops, hurriedly changed out of their uniforms so they could join the ninja assembling on Master Tatsu's orders. Ready to go, Jake found Matt barring his way.

"What?"

"Don't say anything. Anything at all. You understand?"

Jake laughed. "What's eatin' you?"

"Just promise. Whatever happens, say nothing. Do nothing."

"I wasn't gonna... OK. I promise. Now can we go stand with the others?"

Relenting, Matt let Jake through.

April watched as Foot ninja drifted curiously over to join a growing assembly in the middle of the yard, with mixed feelings about her predicament. A sense of optimism, dwindling by the second, told her she was in the perfect place to observe the Foot Clan and find out what they were doing - Great. On balance, however, she'd rather make an educated guess from a place of safety as far away as possible.

"OK, guys... I have a really busy schedule. We could do this some other time... Next year, maybe...?"

She tailed off as the menacing figure of Tatsu emerged from the surrounding ninja. Whatever purpose was being served by bringing her here, it looked like she was about to find out. A rain check was not an option.

* * *

The Turtles made their plans. "OK. Two priorities" said Leonardo. "Find April, rescue her. Find Master Splinter, find out what's going on."

"Well, April's the most urgent, obviously" said Raphael.

"I dunno, Raph, if Splinter wanted us back here enough to call off that big plan of his..."

"You think we should leave April with the Foot? Yeah, great plan, Donny, I'm sure she'll be just fine. I bet they're having coffee and... cupcakes right now, I bet she's having a swell time..."

"I didn't say that" said Donatello, genuinely hurt.

"Look..." Leonardo cut in. "Donny's lost his staff. I think he should go back home for a spare, and find out what the deal is from Master Splinter. The rest of us find April, and then the four of us meet up and rescue her."

"Leo-!" Raphael might have been about to say something scathing, but the look on his brother's face stopped him.

"Look, guys, I gotta be honest, if any of you have any better ways of going on with this, I wanna hear 'em. I really hope you do. I'm just coming up with a plan as best I can, here..."

The others all nodded. Raphael patted Leonardo's arm in non-verbal apology.

* * *

"Bring her forward!" With her hands now tied behind her, April had to clamber awkwardly over the rough terrain of the yard as she was pushed forward to face the Foot leadership. One good thing - no Shredder. Looked like Leo was right about that. The ominous-looking Tatsu, however, wasn't much less scary.

"Master Tatsu... welcomes you to our _humble_ base of operations." That was the man standing on Tatsu's right, masked like the others. The voice was American, sardonic and strangely familiar... Freddy. Her short-lived assistant. The Foot spy.

"Hi..." Smiling nervously, April was glad her voice didn't let her down and alert them to how scared she really was. "Uh... He's a really quiet talker."

"The Foot Clan is an ancient organization. Its protocol is complex, and often baffling to outsiders." Freddy took off his mask and smiled at her, cold-eyed. "You'll believe me when I say that I speak for Master Tatsu."

"Ooookaaay... So why have I been brought here…?" she asked warily, making a point of addressing the question to Tatsu. If Freddy had expected a reaction to the familiar face, he was disappointed.

"We would really like to talk to the remaining members of the Hamato clan, Miss O'Neil" he said, undaunted. We thought you might be able to help us do that."

Freddy's voice was mellow and reasonable-sounding, and it took a couple of seconds for April to catch on. "The Turtles? You want to talk to the Turtles?" Point of principle forgotten in her surprise, she spoke to him directly. "That's talk, not fight…? Since when?"

He shrugged. "Diplomacy is also a complex art, and often doesn't go according to plan."

"Yeah..." April was tired of this, and decided to cut through it. "But I'm a hostage, right? I don't know, something here is definitely giving me that vibe." She turned to show them the rope binding her wrists. "Maybe it's _this_...!"

Freddy glanced sidelong at Tatsu, but the Foot Master just stood there, arms folded over his chest, impassive face giving away little.

"What do you think…?" April demanded, impatiently moving forward a couple of paces toward them. Strong hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her back to her original spot, and she shot an annoyed glance behind her.

"You prefer to be straightforward. That's fine. But beware"- Freddy stopped as Tatsu leaned closer and said a few terse words, too quiet for April to hear. She got the impression he was as tired of this as she was.

"Master Tatsu offers you a bargain" he said at last. "You can co-operate, and help us in bringing about a... meeting of our two clans. Or we may have to be more... straightforward too. Which is it to be…?"

April glanced apprehensively around the assembled Foot ninja. Then her expression hardened - As if she would ever betray her friends! " _Hey_ , you know what?" she replied defiantly, "I'm a straightforward kinda girl!"

Freddy shrugged wistfully, as if to say _Don't blame me_ , and under Tatsu's menacing glare April felt a lot less certain of her stance. That had sounded _great_ in her head. "Look... Sorry if I've offended you..." she said, and added hopefully "I should just leave right away, _huh_...?"

Tatsu barked a guttural command. Gripped by the shoulders again, April was pulled back to make way as he strode away across the yard, then she was turned and purposefully - not to mention reluctantly - hurried in the direction of the workshop. "Hey, wait, OK...!" she called desperately. "Uh... This _is_ the way out, right...? _Guys_...?"

Freddy watched the rest of the Foot as they gradually drifted away, noting he wasn't the only one to hang back. One of the ninja dawdled and only started moving when his neighbor gave him a shove. His eyes narrowed slightly, but the look of faint amusement never deserted him. This was all proving very entertaining.

* * *

"There you are..." Donatello muttered, pulling his spare staff out of a battered cabinet in the Turtle's lair. Jumping down into the main area, he decided to have another try. "Master?!" he called. "Master, it's Donatello... Are you here...?" He shrugged. He would just have to meet the others and they would deal with all of it together. April first, then Master Splinter – he had no doubt that's how their sensei would want it.

Something fell. Donatello turned. He found the intruder halfway through a sprint toward the exit, and she actually had one foot raised in the air. Despite his confusion, and if he was honest some annoyance too, Donatello smiled.

"I thought only cartoon people ran like that!"

Irma gaped at him, mouth opening and closing. Donatello stepped forward to catch her, assuming he had another fainter on his hands, but her frightened squeal stopped him in his tracks. He shielded where his ears would be if he had any. "Ow!"

Irma seemed to recover herself a little. She felt bold enough to ask this apparition a question.

"Uh... Are you a Renaissance boy?"

* * *

 **Next:** Irma encounters a maneater, Tatsu has a captive audience and the Turtles meet Benny the Ball...


	9. Rendezvous with Irma

"What are you?" Irma asked in awe. "I mean, obviously, you're one of those Ninja Turtles, but I really thought that was some kind of hoax or publicity stunt or something. I mean, I work in the media, so obviously I'm not going to just automatically fall for these things." She took a breath. "So, are you a random mutation, or a genetic splice, or some kind of experiment that broke out of a laboratory"-

-"No" said Donatello. "But that happens more than you'd think."

"Do you... Do you eat people?" she asked nervously, moving sideways to put his work bench between them.

"Only if there isn't anything else" Donatello replied. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding" he hurriedly added as she took an alarmed step back and nearly fell. "We eat pizza." Irma looked almost reassured.

"People pizza" he added. "...I'm still kidding!"

* * *

"What do you think he's going to do...?" Jake pondered. He insisted on talking, however much Matt tried to discourage it.

"Maybe if you shut up and listen he'll tell us." Matt replied very quietly, and to an observer it would look like he wasn't speaking at all.

Jake wasn't satisfied with that. Worried, and more than a little impatient, he was craning his neck to see past all the other Foot ninja gathered in the workshop to continue their council of war. "What about _her_...?"

"Never mind _her_..."

April was tied to an old wooden chair, and was _very_ unhappy about that. Wriggling against the cruelly tight ropes, trying to alleviate her discomfort even a little, she moved her head in an irrational effort to dislodge the strip of tape over her mouth. Would anything be different if she _had_ agreed to help them...? Somehow, she doubted it.

Jake started to speak again. "This isn't why I"-

-"Shut up!" Matt hissed. Tatsu strode across the yard toward them at a measured pace, and the low murmuring of conversation died as he approached. He stood near April, indifferent to her misery and to the forlornly accusing look she directed at him.

"Master Shredder is gone" he began, then stood silent and still as a statue for a long moment. He did not have to demand quiet from the others, his presence alone achieved it. "Killed by the... sewer vermin. We will avenge him… They will be drawn here. To free our prisoner. All escape blocked. Trapped. Like rats."

Even as she listened, apparently still, April's hands were busy behind her, urgently trying to loosen the rope around her wrists - trying and getting nowhere, to her increasing dismay. _I'm not going to panic... I'm not going to panic... I'm going to get out of this somehow..._

What would the Turtles do…? They would... undermine the threat with humor, before using their amazing ninja skills to affect an escape...

_OK... That's real helpful...!_

One ninja raised his hand hesitantly. He almost lowered it again, but one of his neighbors forced it high for him. Tatsu noticed that. This question was from them all.

"Master, I - forgive me - that is..." The ninja tailed off nervously as Tatsu waited with uncharacteristic patience. "What if we... I mean, if Master Shredder couldn't beat these Turtles...?" The man bowed low, fearing an outburst of violence from his volatile master.

That was not Tatsu's reaction. "You are right to think this" he said, and many of them started in surprise. "These Turtles - we will not beat them with... stratagems, or making more freaks like them. We will beat them with numbers. With strength." He raised his hands and held them wide apart. "They are weak. They care for her." He glanced toward April, and her eyes widened in alarm.

"That will be their death!" he announced, and clapped his hands together with tremendous force and a sound that seemed to make the workshop shake.

"Mm _mff!_ "

April's startled gasp, muffled by the tape, made Tatsu look back at her sharply. For a second, no more than that, he smiled faintly, before turning away.

* * *

"So, your hands are tied, is that what you're saying...?"

"No, it's not what I'm saying. At least, it's not exactly what I'm saying..." New York's Deputy Mayor met Chief Sterns' steady look with what he felt was a suitably resolute one of his own, and hoped for the best. Frankly, no one was coming out of this little informal meeting well.

Sterns got up off his chair in front of the DM's desk, and paced around. "Look at it from my POV, will ya...? The rats are a public order issue, which means if we can't deal with it I get it right _here_..." He pointed firmly at his own neck. "…But the sewers, they're your area... and so is the maintenance thereof..."

"Chief, I get what you're saying... Believe me, I do. No one wants an end to this business as much as I do... " He added dutifully "…Except, of course, for the Mayor himself..."

"This is a budget thing, I understand..." Sterns spared a glance for the third attendee, practically hidden behind piles of documents and doing his best to unfold a huge map of the sewers - Bryan Bryant noticed he was being watched and froze.

Sterns winked, and if anything, that just made Bryan feel more uncertain in this company. A sheep and two sharks.

"Well, it's true that this is kinda late in the fiscal year for any drastic new undertakings", said the Deputy Mayor, talking fast. "And a little close to the elections too, as I'm sure _you_ can appreciate. But there is something else... Look, this is kinda embarrassing..."

"Go on."

"Well, performing regular maintenance down there, it is dangerous, as you'd expect, but not _unreasonably_ so... It's just, my people, at least some of 'em... A few of 'em at least..."

"Spit it out..."

"Well, years ago, one guy went missing down there... Some of the guys we still got, they knew him pretty well, and they say..."

"What...?!" Sterns was getting impatient now.

"They say they've seen him down there... They're, uh, saying it's... haunted..."

Sterns raised an incredulous eyebrow, and shared a look with Bryan, cynical on his part, incredibly uncomfortable on Bryan's, and sat down again. "Y'know..." he mused, "You hear stories... We all hear 'em... And this business with the rats, plus just the sheer size of all those tunnels down there..." He took one corner of the giant map from Bryan and glanced down at it.

"It kinda makes me start to wonder what the hell else could be living down there..."

* * *

Irma and Donatello had finally gotten past their initial misunderstandings and were sitting in the subway car, where a rapid exchange of information was just drawing to a close. They had quite a bit of back-story, so it was lucky they were both fast talkers.

"Fire extinguishers!" Irma cut in, interrupting Donatello's story. He moved back a little in surprise.

"You're right" he confirmed. "That's what we used. It catalyzed the reaction, and the two mutants reverted to their natural form. You're good."

"Junior grade chemistry stuff" she dismissed.

He looked a little bit annoyed at that. "OK" he conceded, and then moved on. "So, you're April's new assistant?"

"Yeah..." Irma replied, unable to keep from showing how much that pleased her. "You know, I had just left college, I didn't know what I wanted to do, and I turned on the TV and I saw this young woman - only a little bit older than me - just demolish this creep of a guy, some executive, who was about to get away with this major fraud. She tricked him into confessing live on TV. How cool is that...?"

"Yeah..." Donatello nodded. "That guy got off on a technicality."

"Oh." Irma looked dispirited for about a second. "Yeah. But it's the principle of it..."

"Hey, no arguments from me. April is pretty cool. I suppose she's kind of like... a sister to us..." He looked faintly troubled for a moment. "Except maybe Michelangelo..."

"Do you know where she's got to?" asked Irma. "She was supposed to meet me this afternoon."

"Yeah..." Donatello looked pained, and said all that followed in a rush. "She's... April's in trouble. She's a prisoner of the Foot Clan. I'm hoping my brothers have found where she is by now. In fact, they might have rescued her already. If not, the four of us are meeting at her apartment then we'll all go in and get her out." It seemed like he was reassuring himself as much as Irma. "The whole gang..."

She shivered. "Poor April... When are we due to meet the others?"

"Hey, wait a minute... Who said anything about we?"- The look on Irma's face cut him off. He just accepted it. He had company.

* * *

"Awright, Benny...!" Raphael threw the tall figure against the wall. "Start talkin'!" The dazed Benny, a shifty-looking man in his thirties with a tiny hat perched on his head, looked askance at his assailant.

Leonardo and Michelangelo watched, and Michelangelo looked at Leonardo questioningly. Leo just shrugged, and turned again to make sure no one else was nearby. He very much wanted the four of them to be unobserved in the alley while Raph conducted his questioning.

"Jeez..." Benny, sometimes known as Benny the Ball despite his lanky frame, for reasons Raphael did know but wished he didn't, was only now beginning to come to terms with what was happening. "Give me time, willya? Till five minutes ago, I thought you were just some short dude who liked long coats and big hats, now I find out you're some kind of circus freak... Y'think y'know people..."

"I ain't got time for that, Benny. In fact, me and my brothers are a little behind schedule, so we don't have much time for anything. We certainly don't have time for conversation. Or niceties. Am I getting' clearer? Scream in pain if you understand."

"OK, OK..."

"Where are they, Benny? Where are the Foot callin' home these days?"

* * *

"I hate to think of leavin' her there, Leo." Raphael followed his brothers down the ladder into the sewer tunnel with a worried look on his face.

"I know, me too. But I want all four of us together to face the Foot. You know this is a trap."

"OK, OK, fearsome leader. I'm not arguing with you. I just don't have to like it, that's all."

"A few hours from now, we'll all be together at home. Us Turtles, April, Master Splinter, and we'll be laughing about this..."

Leonardo tailed off. They had come to a junction in the tunnel and a set of steps leading to a platform and an access to another tunnel. To the surprise and delight of all three, Master Splinter stood watching them.

Raphael started forward, and then stopped. Looked at the others. Splinter's face gazed at them blankly, without recognition. His stance was one of alertness, ready to defend himself. Something about this situation was wrong.

* * *

Alone now in the workshop, April held very still as a Foot ninja walked past outside the window on his patrol and then slowly back in the other direction. Then she got back to work on her ropes, fingernails digging at the one rock-hard knot she was _just_ able to reach with her fingertips, trying to concentrate on that and not think about how horrible her situation was. _Inescapable_ , even. Not so easy, especially as it became clear the ropes weren't going to give at all.

As she fought her rising panic, a faint sound over to the side caught her attention. April froze, wide-eyed.

The rat was only a few feet away, nose twitching. It was a big rat - not as big as Splinter, obviously, but still big. On the plus side, and she really needed a plus side right now, it looked like she had overcome her old musophobia. Routinely interacting with a giant talking rat will do that for you.

No, this was OK, if a little odd, so long as it didn't-

To her alarm, the rat came closer! April instinctively tried to lean forward to keep it in view, and was painfully reminded of the coils of rope holding her pinned to the chair. She heard its light footfall behind her and felt it run beneath. It paused to investigate the rope binding her ankles, and appeared again in front of her.

" _Mmmff..._ " A little uncertainly, April offered the rat a tape-muffled greeting. It seemed only polite.

Unsurprisingly, it offered no reply but suddenly it seemed more alert, standing up on its rear legs. Taken aback, she stared back at it.

 _What are you doing, Whiskers...?_ Was she imagining it...? Could this be the same rat she had seen in her apartment that morning? Or was that just crazy...?

Well, if she was going crazy she might as well pull out all the stops... April closed her eyes and concentrated intently... _Hi. I know it's a really, really long shot, but I don't suppose you're some kind of psychic rat who likes to gnaw through rope, are you?_

She opened her eyes again, looked down at the rat... and felt really, really, silly...

* * *

The Rat King sat on his makeshift throne, deep in concentration to keep the mental link with his servant open. The voice came through as clearly as if its owner had been in the room with him, and the ghost of a smile twitched his cracked lips. He admired the spirit that made her defiant and resourceful, even humorous, _even_ in her current predicament, and toyed with the idea of making his rat spy release this _April O'Neil_.

It could be done. He could give her at least a chance to escape. It might be diverting...

He lost focus as a wave of what could almost be described as dizziness befell him, and instantly knew that something important was happening elsewhere. The Rat King shifted his attention.

* * *

Holding the rat's gaze for what seemed like a long time, transfixed, April really didn't know what she expected it to do - She was just hoping for... something. The tiniest opportunity for a way out of this. She could, quite frankly, forgive herself for not being at her most logical right now.

The Foot sentry walked past the window again and she stayed completely still till he had passed. By the time she turned back to find the rat again, it had disappeared into the darkening shadows of the workshop. April was still just a _little_ hopeful, but it soon became clear it really had gone.

 _'Bye, rat_ , she thought bitterly. _Thanks for nothing._

* * *

"Master...?" Leonardo stepped forward, and Splinter's eyes moved to follow him. They still showed no sign of recognition. "It's us..."

Raphael approached too, and looked up at their sensei. He turned to the others and shook his head. "Guys... There's definitely something wrong here. This is some kind of trap. Let's just grab him and get outta here."

Michelangelo lolloped forward like an overgrown puppy. "OK, master. Don't you move. I'm coming up there." He climbed up towards Splinter's position above them, and their sensei slowly walked over to meet him. As Michelangelo reached the same level, he held out a hand and the Turtle took it automatically.

He yelped as Splinter twisted his wrist and propelled him with an extended foot out into mid-air. Splinter watched expressionlessly as Michelangelo hit the ground like a very surprised stone and lay there on his back, dazed.

"Guys... Did Master Splinter ever mention if he had an evil twin...?"

"What's going on here...?" Leonardo walked over to the fallen Michelangelo to help him get off his back, and was stopped abruptly as a shuriken clanged off a pipe far too near to his head for comfort. All three Turtles gaped as Splinter flipped over the safety rail and climbed smoothly down to their level and stood confronting them.

Splinter extended his arms in an unmistakable gesture of challenge.

 

* * *

 **Next:** Shells are broken, the Turtles hit the heights and Splinter confronts Leatherhead...


	10. Generation Gap

_"P-Piz-za..."_

_"Hrrrmmm..." Splinter took a look round his four small charges. Three of them looked back at him with differing levels of attention. One of them was wandering off. No prizes for guessing which..._

_Splinter picked up Raphael as he moved away, turned him round and set him on the ground again, and watched him return to the others without breaking his stride. "Turt-le..." he said again, slowly, beginning to get a little impatient._

_"Piz-za..."_

_Splinter sighed. The task he had undertaken was proving to be a little more difficult even than he had imagined. Who knew how long it would take, and indeed where it would lead him and his four protégés..?  
_

* * *

As Leonardo was slammed into the tunnel wall for the fourth time, he fancied he heard a disturbing sound. Like an eggshell breaking, if you could imagine something similar to but many times tougher than an eggshell. That wasn't good. Would his shell heal if given the chance? He hoped to have the opportunity to find out.

"What?" Lying on his back a few feet away, Raphael was still in denial about what was happening to them. They had tried going in one at a time, they had tried going in co-coordinated waves, and they had tried rushing him en masse. Splinter was unbeatable, at least to them. He barely moved, that was the infuriating thing. A sidestep here, a nonchalant trip and a barely perceptible whack with his stick equaled one Turtle senseless on the ground.

Of course, they had to use kid gloves. They couldn't risk harming their master, though Leonardo suspected there was fat chance of that anyway. There was no trick he could devise that Splinter wouldn't be able to counter, indeed most of them would have been the ones he had taught them in the first place. They couldn't use their superior agility in this confined space, and even if they could he knew Splinter would probably find a way to counter that too.

Leonardo had no cards left to play, and he had a horrible feeling they were running out of time.

* * *

_"Leo-nardo" said the little Turtle with the fleck of blue paint on his shell for ease of identification. He looked pleased with himself, and indeed Splinter was pleased with him too._

_"Raph... Raph-aye-ell..." said the little Turtle with red paint, though there was no mistaking this one. He shot a triumphant look at blue. Anything you can do..._

_"Piz-za..!" said orange. As Splinter's head snapped round to look at him, with a slight frown, he looked mischievous. "Kid-ding" he added. And then "Mike-al... Ange-a-lo..." To be fair, his was the most challenging, and Splinter felt a little glow of pride.  
_

_One more. Splinter turned to the remaining Turtle patiently. He couldn't expect them all to be equally intelligent, he supposed..._

_Purple was seemingly engrossed in one of the tattered books Splinter had hauled some time ago from a storm drain. Realizing there was silence, purple looked up and quickly ascertained it was his turn._

_"Don-atello" he said quickly, precise over the first syllable and rushing the others out. He looked uncertain. Was it all right to go back to the book now?_

_In that moment, Splinter reconsidered all his expectations for his charges. He felt dizzy with the possibilities..._

* * *

Michelangelo staggered forward with what he felt sure would be exactly the sort of facial expression that would save him from another beating. It was his very best _Hey, can we sit down and talk about this?_ face. All he had to do was get Splinter to listen, and everything would be fine. He was certain of that.

"Master... Is this because I didn't do all the flips..?" Michelangelo fell on his face as his legs were swept out from under him by Splinter's stick.

"Guys... We're getting nowhere" Raphael announced reluctantly. Leonardo knew how much it would hurt him to accept failure, and it hurt him just as much to agree.

* * *

_As he sat in silence, the Turtles seemed to recognize Splinter's desire for privacy and all went about their own pursuits. Till, coming to a decision, he stopped them._

_"My sons..." They turned back to look at him, and as one came back to sit at his feet._

_"I have a new word for you..."_

_"Splin-ter" said Leonardo eagerly._

_"Very good." Splinter smiled faintly. "That is my name, yes. But I have another name also..." There was silence as they waited for him to continue._

_"Sensei..."_

* * *

Leonardo took a moment, just a moment, to rest. He desperately wanted just to lie there, let his pummeled body rest, but obviously he couldn't. He was needed, here and now...

He shook himself. How much time had passed? He quickly looked round and realized Raphael and Michelangelo were also slumped on the filthy floor of the tunnel. Where was Splinter? Looking up, he caught a glimpse of a long tail disappearing into the tunnel on the level above.

He was getting away...

* * *

Splinter led the Turtles on a chase they could not have imagined him being capable of. Through the tunnels they went. When the rat failed to shake them off, it was up again they went, out into the outside world, and the streets of New York.

It wasn't quite dark yet. This was something Splinter would never do. If they had harbored any doubts, now they could be certain their master was not in full control of himself.

Up again. A fire escape, up and up and up and up... Onto the roof. Across the roof. A dizzying moment as they jumped across the narrow alley far below... And again. Another roof. Another dizzying jump. Again and again till they no longer got dizzy and till their leg muscles ached.

Not one of the Turtles thought to complain, or to slow down or to worry unduly about being seen. This must be done. They would carry on till they dropped finally from exhaustion. Or until...

Splinter ran out of buildings.

Even fresh, none of them could make the jump from this roof. The gap was far too wide, with a drop of more than a hundred feet below. Splinter stood on the edge and turned back to watch as the three of them ran up and confronted him. Doubled over, gasping for breath, hearts and lungs working overtime. If he could just give them a minute to recover...

* * *

_"Back..!" Splinter shouted at the Turtles, as they rushed forward with their new weapons held ready. This was too dangerous. It was too early for them to be tested this way. They just weren't ready._

_In the dark tunnel, he could not even see their assailant clearly. He just heard the splash as it entered and exited the water, and occasionally in the brief illumination provided from above by a streetlight through a drain cover he would see a quick glimpse of some kind of scaly hide._

_The creature was large, and it was hostile._

_"Back..!" he called again. This was not their test. It was his. How far would he go to protect them? What would he sacrifice..?_

_As the creature passed under a shaft of light and stayed there for a moment, Splinter got a better look and noted with a detached interest that his adversary was an alligator. More knowledge he had managed to glean from the books to which he owed so much. It was, however, like no alligator from the books, it walked upright like a man. A creature like themselves perhaps..?_

_There was no more time to think. The creature was almost upon him. He could give his sons time to get away. What would he sacrifice..? In that moment, he knew the answer..._

* * *

Leonardo and Splinter made eye contact. The Turtle felt a glow of fresh optimism as he recognized his sensei's spirit behind the eyes, for just a second. He wasn't gone.

Relief flooded Leonardo as he realized everything was going to be just fine, and he turned to reassure the others...

...Just at the moment that Splinter stepped off the edge and fell out of view.

* * *

 **Next:** The Turtles are shell-shocked, the Rat King steps out and April rocks...


	11. Shell Shock

If the Turtles had ever imagined what their reaction might be to an event like this, the reality was probably very different. They stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity. They walked to the edge, and looked down into the dimming street below. They could see no sign of Master Splinter anywhere down there, but that didn't mean he wasn't there.

They hung around on the rooftop for a few minutes longer. They didn't talk to each other. When it had finally gotten dark enough, Leonardo led the way back down the fire escape. They descended quickly, and began to search for Splinter's body.

* * *

Regrettable. The loss of Splinter was quite regrettable. The Rat King sat in silence for a moment.

He searched with his thoughts. He had his rats in the vicinity search. Wherever the sensei's body had landed, none of them were within range. That in itself was strange. In New York, no one was ever very far from one of the Rat King's servants.

He dismissed such concerns, and stood. There was no time to lose if he was to take the next steps in his plan. Not for nothing had he monitored the Turtles' fight with their master so closely.

* * *

His trap was baited - now Tatsu prepared to spring it. Out in the yard, he put the younger members of the Foot Clan through their paces as the older ones looked on in amusement. They drilled and trained endlessly. They fought each other in groups, and fought each other singly.

Now they would fight him.

Tatsu stood alone, stick at the ready. At his urging, the young ninja would come at him one at a time, some of them cautiously, nervously, some of them with bravado, and all of them would fall.

Some he tripped - the lucky ones. One he felled with a light blow to the stomach that drove the breath out of the young student's body. He swept the legs out from under another. Another, a light blow to the throat that left him fighting for breath. The only part of their bodies he spared from this punishment was their heads. He needed them alert. A lot of their best people had deserted after their last confrontation with the Turtles, and Tatsu was determined they would be ready for the next and final one.

At the end of this, Tatsu was the only one standing – his students lay or sat on the ground around him, looking up at their brutal teacher. Had they passed or failed? One day they would learn the lesson he sought to teach them. An appreciation of his single fundamental rule.

There are no rules.

* * *

Even inside the workshop, right at the back next to the bench grinder, the sounds of training could be heard. Jake and Matt, busy though they were sharpening one cutting edge after another, found themselves cringing at the sound of a body hitting the ground or the slap of Tatsu's stick on soft flesh. It was a relief to switch the machine on and drown the sounds out.

Jake strolled across the workshop carrying a bundle of freshly sharpened weapons, and deposited them into a re-purposed umbrella stand several feet behind April's chair. She was still tied up, and on Tatsu's orders she was to stay that way. The two dozen or so young men and boys who comprised what was left of the Foot Clan in New York weren't normally given to feelings of sympathy, but even some of _them_ felt a little sorry for her.

Some more than others.

On his way back, Jake stopped uncertainly as a familiar qualm troubled him. As far as he was concerned keeping April tied and gagged was pointlessly cruel, but then... That was kind of the Foot's MO...

That had been OK, once... Or maybe it was just OK when-

-"M _mm_ ff…?!" April demanded irately through the duct-tape. Jake guessed that probably meant _What…?!_ OK. Quit staring.

He headed back towards Matt at the bench and distractedly watched him work for a few seconds. "Don't you even feel a _little_ bit bad for her?" he said at last. The machine was switched on, and only Matt could hear him. "She doesn't deserve this..."

Matt frowned as he turned over the sword blade he was working on. "She's an enemy of the Foot Clan. Her and those Turtle things killed Master Shredder."

"That's what Tatsu says" Jake said stubbornly. "I don't remember _her_ being there that day."

April heard a quick snatch of conversation as the machine was momentarily powered down. " _...Yeah…? You try telling him he's wrong... Let me know how that goes..._ " The context was a mystery, but she was thinking about something else anyway... With some difficulty, she glanced back over her shoulder.

A few feet away - the umbrella stand. A glance up - they were talking to each other. Neither was looking at her...

_Worth a try, O'Neil. Time to stop feeling sorry for yourself..._

Using the noise of their machine to cover the sound, April shifted from side to side and rocked the chair a little. She looked down. Although her feet were tied, she was able to push down with the toes of her boots against the floor and by combining that with the rocking she managed to move a little closer to the umbrella stand.

"What will happen to her?" Jake tried to make the question sound casual.

"When the Turtles are dealt with…?" Matt shrugged. "Dunno." He snorted, then half-smiled as a thought occurred to him. "Ever heard the expression _concrete shoes_?" he mused.

"Huh?"

"Just pass me the next one" Matt sighed. He paused. "You're sweet on her, that's your problem. You always gotta watch the news when it's April O'Neil..." Neither of them noticed as April continued to move her chair inch by painstaking inch closer to the umbrella stand...

"So what if I am. Life's gotta be about more than fighting" Jake said sullenly. Matt looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

 _Almost there. I can nearly reach..._ With some effort, not to mention pain, April could just reach the edge of some kind of bladed weapon with her fingertips. Any of the Turtles could no doubt have told her what it was called, but right now she didn't care.

 _Just a little further..._ She nudged the chair back just enough...

"Deep" said Matt. "All I'm saying is, you're lucky we're friends. 'Cause if we weren't you'd be in real trouble right now."

"Awww, I'm touched."

April feverishly tried to scrape the coarse rope binding her hands up and down the edge of the blade. It felt like every muscle in her body was stretched taut, but she was so restricted she could barely manage to move half an inch each way. Plus, she couldn't even see what she was doing. This was going to take forever, and one of them could look over at any moment...

"You will be. With Master Tatsu's sword. At about one hundred mph."

 _This isn't going to work..._ Why had she ever thought this would work? Even if she could cut through the rope around her wrists, what then...?

 _What have I got to lose...?_ April kept going. Getting out of here was no longer a hope, or even the point. Just doing _something_ to resist the Foot was enough.

"And all I'm saying is, if we could talk to her I bet"-

-"Hey, don't even think about taking the tape off her mouth. Master Tatsu"-

-"Haven't you finished that yet?" A masked Foot ninja stood in the doorway, and Jake and Matt's heads snapped round to him, guiltily.

April held very still. Would this one notice she had moved?

"Just about done." Matt tested the edge of the blade he was working on. It was good enough. "Actually, we are done."

"Come with me. Master Tatsu has finished with the others. Your turn. Show him what you can do." April could tell, even through the mask, that this one was smiling. Partly from the tone of his voice, partly because it was a voice she recognized. She had seen that smile, and the thought of it now made her skin crawl. _Freddy_.

Just for a moment, she thought she would get away with it and was poised to continue her efforts. Then, as Jake and Matt moved past him, not exactly eager to get outside, Freddy's attention turned to April.

He walked across, leaned over and inspected the ropes. A little bit frayed by their contact with the blade, but still more than secure. He moved behind her, and a few seconds later he reappeared having picked up the stand full of weapons. He let her register that, and April was certain he was smirking behind the mask, and then he took it with him out of the workshop.

 _Well, I knew it was a long shot..._ April tried to shrug, and realized indignantly the painfully confining ropes wouldn't even let her do that!

* * *

Freddy put the umbrella stand down and immediately forgot about it, moving over to Jake and Matt purposefully. They were standing a few yards away from the workshop looking a little confused, as they realized Master Tatsu was nowhere to be seen. The other ninja were slowly recovering from the damage Tatsu had inflicted on them – checking for broken bones, flexing tired muscles, stretching...

Jake and Matt allowed Freddy to take them aside. "So, what was that about?" Matt did the talking, as per the never spoken but firmly understood agreement at the center of his association with Jake.

Freddy smiled, thin-lipped, trustworthy as a fox in a hen house. "What? I need an excuse to talk to my friends?"

"In the Foot Clan, we don't have friends" Matt replied automatically.

"But, since I have got you two here..." Freddy stepped closer and between them, so their faces were near enough for him to speak to them in barely a whisper. "You know what this was all for?" Neither of them were going to help him out - they waited for him to spell it out for them.

Freddy sighed faintly. "He's tired of waiting. He's going to take out a patrol and get the Turtles' attention, try and lead them back here. Bold, huh?" When they said nothing, he continued. "Some might even say, _brave_."

"Get to the point."

"You really want a leader who's brave?" Freddy snarled. "Wouldn't you rather stay alive, and maybe even, I don't know... Win…?"

There it was. Jake and Matt exchanged glances. There might even be a good point there somewhere.

* * *

"How can he not be there, Leo...?!"

"Why are you-?" Leonardo stopped his bad-tempered response there, and rubbed the top of his head. "Sorry, Raph. Let's just head back. If Master Splinter is OK, that's where he'll go. Right?"

"And April…?"

They stopped. For the second time that day, the Turtles found their way barred in the sewer tunnels. This time, instead of Splinter the obstacle was a man, a figure of tremendous presence despite his not particularly imposing stature. Finally, they were faced with their main adversary. Somehow, they knew it.

The three of them drew their weapons.

"Nothing to say?" the Rat King inquired.

"What is there to say?" Leonardo's voice was subdued, expressionless.

"We're the Turtles. You're the bad guy" said Raphael with a little more anger. "I think we all know what we gotta do."

"So be it." The Rat King waited as Michelangelo and Raphael moved round, trying to outflank him. A difficult maneuver in the confined space of the tunnel. Leonardo stayed in front, advancing slowly with his swords pointed straight ahead.

Michelangelo was the first to strike, and somehow, incredibly, the Rat King caught his nunchuks in a tight grip and pulled him off balance, slamming him into the wall with a kick.

Raphael was next. One sai swiped at the Rat King's head to distract him, while the other went low. The Rat King ignored the feint, and blocked the genuine strike. An elbow in the face sent Raphael into the wall after Michelangelo. His strength was overwhelming despite his wiry frame.

"Just us." Leonardo stepped forward grimly, but with great care. He wasn't going to be taken out so easily. The Rat King retreated before him, and smiled.

"You might do better to see to your brothers. I did try not to injure them, but they may still be hurt."

"Yeah" replied Leonardo. "You know where we can get any bandages around here?"

His opponent laughed. "This has gone on long enough."

"I think we're on the same wavelength" Leonardo said, still advancing as the Rat king retreated slowly. Something brushed against his foot, and he looked down. "What the"-

A rat. No, not a rat. Several rats. Leonardo quickly lost count. They climbed up his legs, and no amount of swiping at them with his sword deterred them. Soon, they were everywhere and as he thrashed around trying to shake them off they enveloped him.

In the last moments before his vision was blocked Leo saw that Raphael and Michelangelo were in the same situation on the ground.

The Rat King watched as his three opponents were totally engulfed by wave after wave of his rat servants, and soon the only evidence of their existence was their shape picked out in the legions of rats. Those Turtle-shaped bumps moved down the tunnel, carried by a stream of rodents, unable to move and certainly unable to escape.

Calmly, the Rat King followed.

* * *

**Next:** Michelangelo chokes, Leonardo brings home a stray and Todd thinks it’s easy being green…


	12. Red Blue Orange Purple

Was this what it was like in the egg…?

Raphael floated in a sea of darkness. Floated, flew, swam... It was pure guesswork. There was no up, there was no down, there was no sideways, there was no past or future.

There _were_ colors. If he let his mind wander, he could let the swirls of color wash over them and then wane only to be replaced by a new rush of color. Red. Blue. Orange. Purple. Back to red. Blue. Orange. Purple...

He wondered if they had some kind of significance. If they had, he couldn't see what it was. That was no surprise, though, because he didn't actually know for sure who he was...

* * *

**Three weeks ago...**

He stood in the shadows and brooded. He did that well. Better than anyone else he could think of. It was more difficult here than in New York, certainly, as people tended to stop and have a second look at the curious figure in the trench-coat and the hat. Though the badly maintained streetlights helped.

Well, let them look. If they saw anything it just made them walk a little quicker in future.

 _Here_ was a little town in upstate New York, a little lakeside place called... Lakeside. 'Hell of an imagination, the people who founded this town. _He_ was... Let's just say he wasn't from here. A large green hand with a thumb and two fingers reached up and adjusted the hat, and he sighed. He missed home.

Raphael looked at the ground and gave one more, heartfelt, sigh. "I'm tired of this s"-

* * *

-"Hit it!" suggested Michelangelo. When Leonardo looked round at him irritably, he added sheepishly "That always works for me."

Donatello crouched over the desk. "Hi, Master, it's Donatello. Hey, I know you wanted us to stay incommunicado up here... We were worried about you. I rigged up this phone, so if you need us just call... Uh, I got the number here somewhere..."

The three of them – Leonardo, Michelangelo and Donatello – looked up as Raphael walked in. He tossed the hat onto a table and threw off the coat, while Donatello quietly read the number in front of him into the receiver.

"Where have you been?" Leonardo asked in a reasonable tone.

"Out" Raphael replied. Neither of them pursued the matter any further than that.

"I hope everything is OK back there" Leonardo fretted. He looked dubiously at the mess of wires and components held together with tape and gum that Donatello assured them was now a working telephone. "You sure this thing's working, Donny?"

"Yeah" was the reply. "It's working just fine. I got the Answerphone."

"Answerphone" said Raphael irritably. "That's real helpful, Donny. Sorry, I can't come to the 'phone right now. I'm being attacked by forty members of the Foot Clan. Or maybe I'm just in the bath. Basically, you can't tell!" He turned to Leonardo and snarled "Face it, Leo - We're forgotten out here."

There was a moment of tension as the two stared at each other, then they both backed away.

Leonardo spoke, apparently as much to himself as the others. "Master Splinter said when it was time to go back, we'd know."

Michelangelo thought for a moment. "Hey, do you think Roy's will deliver pizza out this far?"

Leonardo continued to fret. "I sure wish we could see what was going on back home. Hey, maybe we should try contacting April... But then, Master Splinter was pretty clear about that too..."

"I don't know what we're supposed to be achieving out here. If we can't go ahead and make a difference..." Raphael muttered in the background. The others let him.

Donatello responded cheerily. "Hey... Will you relax, Leo? I'm sure everything is getting along just fine without us."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is..." Leonardo agreed distractedly.

Raphael wandered through to the other room the Turtles had made their main hanging out area and almost collapsed on the sofa. Almost. Till he glanced down and saw what currently occupied it.

"Uh, Leo...?" Raphael's voice was casual. "Who's been bringing home strays...?"

* * *

" _What is this…?_ "

Raphael didn't know if the voice spoke aloud, or if he heard it in his head. In fact, he wasn't so certain he even had a head any more. Or a neck, or shoulders. Or anything else. Thinking about it, he was sure they were around somewhere. They would turn up.

" _This is it... Follow this thread..._ " The voice was speaking more to itself now, and Raphael wondered what it was doing rummaging around in his memories. Yeah. His memories. They were his. Hmmm.

He wasn't at all sure he liked that.

* * *

The factory, a couple of miles outside the town of Lakeside in upstate New York, was out of use but clearly hadn't been for too long. Arriving there, following Master Splinter's hastily issued instructions and still a little shocked by being suddenly uprooted from everything they knew, the Turtles were pleasantly surprised by how much useful stuff they found and they soon had the place adapted to their most basic needs.

Only one of their major needs was neglected, and they immediately started thinking about that one. The solution eluded them for a while...

* * *

An unconscious form sprawled across the sofa, arm trailing on the floor, quietly snoring. A human boy, Raphael guessed in his mid-teens. "Yeah, that's Todd" Leonardo called casually.

"Todd. Right. Of course it is. Hi, Todd, how do you do? Who's Todd?!"

At that, the boy woke, and looked up at Raphael groggily. The two of them studied each other for a moment. "Hi" said Todd, and turned on his side. Raphael thought he looked a little like Danny - or was it Daniel? - Pennington, their friend from New York, not seen for a while since his dad took a sabbatical from work and they went off somewhere. Looked like sabbaticals were the in-thing right now...

"Hey, no way" said Raphael. "No Todds sleep on this couch till I get some answers."

The kid looked up at him curiously. Not at all surprised by Raphael's appearance or anything. Glad as he was to skip the usual fainting and the other stages of shock, Raphael found that a little disconcerting. This kid seemed pretty familiar with this place, and a little too relaxed with the concept of a mutant turtle ninja.

"You must be Raphael..."

For some reason that annoyed Raph, and he pushed the kid's legs off the couch. "And you must be on my sofa, kid. Vamoose." He sat down next to Todd, and folded his arms irritably.

"How long has this been going on?" he demanded of Michelangelo as he sauntered in.

"Todd? A while now, I guess..."

"Well, Raph, you haven't exactly been around a lot..." Leonardo said with a faint hint of accusation as he came in followed by Donatello.

"Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah..." said Michelangelo. He leaned over the couch, talking to Todd now. "I got a new one. Listen..." He gripped Todd's shoulder and made him turn around to watch him.

"Ow! Man, you're strong..."

"Yeah!" Michelangelo nodded excitably. " _'Cause I eats me spinach... Goygoygoygoygoy_..." Michelangelo spluttered hoarsely and Donatello patted his back, receiving a silent raised thumb as thanks.

"Told you, Mikey. Popeye's bad for your throat."

"It's an impression too far..." offered Leonardo.

"It might do your voice irreparable harm" warned Donatello.

"So go ahead" contributed Raphael sourly.

* * *

Leonardo knew the owner of the voice meant no good. Some instinct alerted him. Sure, this was a dream, or that's what he thought anyway, but he was determined to resist. At least, he would do what he could.

It sure was a weird feeling, having your memories flicked through like the pages of a book...

* * *

"Uh... Conference, everybody..." said Raphael. He led the Turtles across the room, where they huddled together. Todd moved to follow. "Sorry, uh, kid. Turtle only conference. It's our rules. Same time every day."

"Since when?" demanded Michelangelo.

"Will you be quiet, Mikey? I just don't want the kid to think this is about him."

"It's not about him?"

"Yeah, it is."

"I'm confused. Anybody else?" contributed Donatello.

"Shaddap. What now?" asked Raphael.

"Now?" Leonardo looked blank.

"He's seen us. He knows who we are. He knows where we are..."

"He's just one kid."

"That's how it starts... One. Then it... I don't know... Escalates..."

"You mean April? You trying to say that was a bad thing…? No, I didn't think so..."

"Sorry if I'm making a snap judgment here, guys..." Michelangelo mused. "But I kinda like April better. If Todd is some kinda replacement, he'd better... He needs some work. He's a fixer upper..."

"No one's replacing April" Leonardo said irritably. "This kid got hurt. What was I supposed to do, leave him there?"

"Hurt?"

"Yeah, he was getting chased by other kids, he fell down. They wanted him to keep some stuff for them, you know, hand it on to some other people, run errands for them. He didn't want to..."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, Raph. Stuff. Illegal sort of stuff."

"I could hear every word back there, you know..." Todd cut in. "For the record, I'm not trying to replace this chick you're talking about. I'm not trying to replace anybody. I'm just me."

"Uh..." Raphael guided Todd away a few feet from the others. "Kid... It's like this..."

"-I should point out, in the interests of accuracy..." said Donatello, "Todd is actually only a smidgen younger than us."

"And if I found out for sure you hatched so much as a second after me, Donny, I'd call you _kid_ as well. Deal with it." Raphael turned to Todd. "Kid... It was fun hanging out, but the thing is, you and us guys, we're from different worlds..."

"I'll say" said Todd. "You guys look like you've wandered in from some Troma flick..."

"Well... Hey! Don't ever say that" responded Raphael, annoyed.

"Yeah" Todd maintained, smile growing. "You guys are definitely in the wrong genre."

"Right, that's it. Forget all the nice stuff I was going to say, kid. Just get the shell outta here."

Leonardo hastened forward from where he had been conferring quietly with Michelangelo for the last couple of minutes. "Hey. Whoa, whoa, whoa... Not so hasty... You know, Todd, I think we might just have something you can do..."

* * *

The Rat King sat back in his chair, eyes tightly closed in fierce concentration. The floor, as ever, seethed with rats, and arrayed in front of him were three large Turtle-sized bumps. The bumps, composed of constantly moving rats, swayed slowly as oxygen was allowed in to sustain the Turtles and carbon dioxide allowed to escape.

The Rat King searched the memories of his prisoners. Somewhere in the undisciplined mess of their minds was the information he needed. Sooner or later, whatever it took, he would have it...

* * *

 

"Uh... Is this what you guys do all day...?" Todd waved his hand dismissively at the TV sitting in front of himself, Raphael and Michelangelo.

 _Oh, sure_ , Raphael thought, a bunch of mutant turtles, adept in martial arts and going around fighting the good fight, that he could accept. The idea that they might pass some time in front of the tube, however...

"Uh, I suppose..." replied Michelangelo. "Our friend April's on. We try not to miss her shows."

"I'll have to take your word for that." Todd looked again at the TV. The screen was dark, and through the big hole the tube and other inner workings could clearly be seen. Less of a TV, it was more of an ex-TV. It had ceased to be a TV.

Donatello walked past, and Raphael tapped his arm as he came within reach. "Donny, you said you were going to take a look at the TV..."

"I did. Write off, dude. I told you, you need to scavenge us a new one."

Raphael thought for a moment, and looked sheepish. "Oh... Yeah. You did. I'll see what I can find tonight."

Todd stood up and limped over to where Donny sat at his makeshift computer. "That thing's a little small... Where are the cables…?"

"I call it a _laptop_. I built it myself."

"What 'ya' doing now?" Donatello's deceptively clumsy-looking fingers were tapping at the keyboard at a rate faster than Todd could follow.

"I'm programming... This is the bit that takes time. I'm defining every color as a hexiflexiwexamal code... You see?"

"No." Todd shrugged and wandered back over to Raphael. "What happened to the TV anyway?" he asked casually.

Raphael snorted. "Yeah, that was our revered"-

-"That would be me. Sorry..." said Leonardo. "Sword practice. Got outta hand..."

Todd sat back on the beat-up couch, rubbing his injured knee. He glanced over at a section of the lightweight internal wall that looked like it had been replaced recently. The repair was good, but he could still tell something had happened to it not so long ago. "Did you do that as well?" he asked lightly.

The Turtles glanced at each other sharply. "Uh, yeah..." Leonardo said hurriedly.

OK, change the subject, fine... Todd looked over at Leonardo's swords, hanging from a hook on the wall, deep in thought. "Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"What was it you wanted me to do? You made a big thing of that, and then just clammed up. What's the big secret?"

"Oh yeah..." Leonardo said, hurrying over. "Yeah... I wanted to talk to the other guys about that before asking you. And I have. So, Todd... We might just have a job you can do for us..."

The others gathered round, bubbling up with barely suppressed glee. Leonardo went on. "There's a... thing we really gotta have... Without it, we'll be in real trouble. Ever since we came here to Lakeside, it's gotten very difficult to obtain. See, in New York, we had ways, means, contacts... Here it's not so easy..."

Todd waved his hands, laughing. "Hey... Leo... I got it... You can stop talking. Whatever it is, if it's that important I'll do it. What is it you guys need?"

* * *

_Pizza!_

Michelangelo had got tired of the mystery voice man's incessant questions, and now whatever it asked him it got that simple one-word response. Hey – it was possible if he said it enough times – thought it enough times, whatever - it might actually give him some of that coveted doughy, cheesy, tomatoey goodness. Sure, it wasn't likely, but Michelangelo was an optimist.

Something else he was - underestimated. He had a feeling voice man was in a hurry, and the longer he could keep him occupied the better.

_Ow! That hurt!_

The questions were over. Michelangelo felt like fingers were actually delving into his brain and could only watch helplessly as his carefully constructed mental pizza was torn apart and cast into the darkness. It upset him even when he reminded himself the pizza wasn't real...

* * *

"...In fact, you know what, kid" said Raphael. "We got some money. You got a mug that won't make the guy in the pizza place go aaaaaggghhhh and run for the Catskills... You see where I'm goin' wit' this?"

"Uh, I think so." Todd smiled, as Leonardo, Michelangelo and Donatello all nodded enthusiastically. Then his face fell, and he gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "You want me to be an errand boy. Just like those drug dealers did."

"Right" said Raphael, pleased. "Um, no" he added. "Not exactly" he clarified.

"Hey, Todd, don't think of it that way" Leonardo said, an arm round his shoulder. "Think of it as... logistical support."

"I wanna be like you guys" Todd pleaded. He looked at each of them in turn.

"Uh... I think I saw a can of green paint somewhere" said Michelangelo helpfully.

"Ha _ha_. You know what I mean, you guys" Todd insisted. "If I had a tenth of your skills, I could set this whole place right."

"You know, kid..." Raphael mused. "...Doing what we do isn't about waving swords around or beating people up whenever you want. Most of it is up here..." He laid a hand on the domed top of his own head. "It's a positive mental attitude... It's about finding... the still point..."

"Um, where did Raph go?" Leonardo asked. "Bring him back, somebody."

Raphael guided Todd to the center of the room. "Look, kid - try this, OK..." He touched Todd's left foot and made him lift it off the ground and stand on the right one alone. "Try standing like this. See how long you can hold it."

Todd looked doubtful. "OK." He stood on one foot for a while, watched by the Turtles. After a few seconds, he wobbled slightly. After a minute, he wobbled a lot.

The Turtles exchanged doubtful glances. Todd's left foot hit the floor to stop him falling over.

"Hey, that's not fair. You know I hurt the knee, plus I got an inner ear thing" he said defensively. "I just need to practice."

Raphael pointed at him. "Exactly... Exactly... And exactly."

Leonardo took up the theme. "Raph's right, Todd. Kind of. In his own way. Sometimes. At least, I can see what he's going for. It's a long road, and a steep learning curve. And you don't have to be a ninja to make the right choices in your life."

Michelangelo took Todd by the arm and steered him away from the others. "I think what they're trying to say is..." He thought for a moment. "Could you get us pizza? Please? There was some other stuff, but I kinda zoned out." He grinned.

* * *

The rats streamed around their monarch's throne in a state of high agitation. They could feel his state of anxiety, and were being whipped into a restless fervor that in turn became a feedback loop that made the Rat King himself start to lose his grip on their minds.

He was so near. Where was it hidden…? His path through their memories was obscured by the flashing colors – each time he had a firm grasp of a particular incident, a burst of red would make him lose it and he would need to find it all over again. Red, blue, orange, purple.

Red. Blue. Orange. Purple.

If only he had access to the other Turtle's mind. Donatello. He felt sure the missing pieces must be there. Even the Rat King was moved to smile faintly as he remembered the other Turtles' mangled recollection of _I'm defining every color as a hexadecimal code_...

Red. Blue. Orange. Purple.

Always in that order.

He was sure he had been on the right track. The Turtles would not grant him direct access to the portion of their memories he was looking for, but he had found isolated threads that should have been possible to follow. An insidious path through their defenses – clues – a trail of breadcrumbs. Pizza crumbs.

Where had that come from? Irrelevant. Or was it?

Always in that order. Of course. He saw it now, but also saw that it was not complete. There was more, and, maddeningly, they didn't know it. How could that be?

He followed the thread. He could see the Turtles in the alley. The four thieves sat back to back, bound and gagged. He listened impatiently as the easily distracted Turtles meandered their way to the truth. _It would be nice if she had left them a trail. Breadcrumbs... Pizza crumbs..._

The girl, April O'Neil...

Even as he followed this line of reasoning one of his rats was dispatched to make sure April was still where he had last located her. He was impressed by the Turtles' efforts to deflect his attention from their human friend. Even on a subconscious level, they were protecting her. It had taken him this long to realize she might be as much a guardian of the item he needed as they were...

The report came back swiftly. Unsurprisingly, April was still held at the Foot Clan's junkyard base - From his spy came a quick visual flash of the captive reporter writhing against her cruel bindings. At the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of the three Turtles' dismay and anger as the vision was shared with them, but they were irrelevant now.

Even so... Was it... pity he felt? Even guilt, since by capturing the Turtles he had deprived April of help and left her at the Foot's non-existent mercy? These sensations meant something to Lawrence Hynten, but he was buried deep in the Rat King's mind and had very little power to influence him.

Impatiently, he dismissed such thoughts. Time to go. Not on any kind of rescue mission - the information he needed was all that mattered. The Rat King stepped down, and the rats scattered around him as he strode purposefully to the exit.

The rats were left in turmoil after the departure of their master, some still under his control and others decidedly not. Some started to fight each other in territorial dispute that had long been subdued by their common purpose and the iron will of their master. An iron will suddenly relaxed.

" _Uuuuuuuuhhh..._ "

A groan escaped from one of the large mounds of rat flesh, and the mass of rodents shifted as something powerful fought to escape from beneath. With an effort that left him thoroughly exhausted, Leonardo erupted from his living prison and collapsed again to the floor.

He forced himself to stand, and assisted his two brothers as they struggled free as well. Weak as kittens, but give them time. Just a little time.

Then they would make the Rat King pay.

* * *

**Next:** April ponders Houdini, Jake tries being good cop and Irma saves the planet…


	13. Freddy's Revenge

Their duties finished for now, Matt and Jake stood at the edge of the yard. They weren't likely to be disturbed - young as they were, they were pretty much senior Foot ninja after the recent losses.

"What's up…?" Matt sighed. "OK, you're not still mooning over the reporter, are you?"

"What...? No..!" Jake snapped, screwing his face up like the suggestion was absurd.

"But what?"

"I didn't say _but_."

"You thought it."

"I mean... There's all of us out here, somebody guarding the workshop all the time... There's no way she can escape... Couldn't we at least untie her...?"

"Yeah, well... You hear about the last guy who questioned Master Tatsu's orders...?"

"No..." Jake replied, intrigued. Matt started to move away, but turned back momentarily to have the last word.

"No. Neither did I."

* * *

_Add to to-do list... Escapology classes. The full Houdini. If I ever get out of here..._

What had happened to the Turtles? April knew that the Foot's plan was to use her as bait to lure them into a trap - that much was obvious - and she could be certain they had left a few clues to follow to get them here. She really didn't want her friends to step into the trap, even if it meant her staying here, but at the same time doubted anything could stop them doing just that. So what had happened?

 _Bummer..._ The word sprang to mind out of nowhere, and the duct-tape was creased and stretched by her automatic smile. That's what _he_ would say. The danger she was in really put petty arguments into perspective.

Well... At least things probably couldn't get much worse...

* * *

The rats were on the move. They streamed through the sewer tunnels, channeled toward the optimum points of attack. All with one mind, directed by one will.

Then... a new thought. New orders. Some, many of them in fact, found themselves re-directed. They had a new objective...

* * *

Jake halted awkwardly at the doors of the workshop as the sentry turned to look at him. His gaze faltered as he spoke to his comrade. "Uh... I just need to... I forgot something in there, OK..." After a suspicious moment, the other ninja nodded him past.

As he went in, hurriedly pulling the mask over his face, Jake became aware of a creaking sound which abruptly stopped as April turned to watch him warily. A sound like... well, like a wooden chair and taut rope under stress. He was strangely pleased that April wasn't accepting her captivity meekly, though he still felt bad about his part in putting her in this situation.

Jake moved over to a work bench, and started awkwardly moving objects around, trying to look busy. He could feel April's eyes on him, glaring at him accusingly. Or was that just his imagination?

Eventually, when he finally had the nerve, he moved over to her. "Uh... You OK?" he asked hesitantly.

Her eyes wide with surprise, April glanced to either side. He _was_ talking to _her_. Wasn't he…?

"No, no, sorry..." Jake continued. "Of course not. Look... I'm sorry about this, OK? I didn't want to bring you here. If it was up to me..."

April considered this Foot ninja carefully. Something about his walk and posture had been a little familiar... It was settled when he took the mask off, and she recognized one of the two bogus cops turned angle grinder operators.

What was going on here? Was this some weird interrogation technique? Bad cop, good cop, nervous conflicted cop? Only without the good cop part? And the really being a cop at all part? Well, if they wanted to interrogate her that might mean losing the gag, although she wasn't getting her hopes up.

"...If it was up to me, you wouldn't be all... Yeah, so, I'm sorry. Just thought you should, um, know."

April continued to look at him blankly. Jake wished he could take the tape off her mouth, but Matt hadn't been wrong about the consequences of that. A Foot ninja did not take Master Tatsu's commands lightly, even when he wasn't around.

"No, you're right..." he continued, "I've got no right to say that. Look, uh... Just forget I was here, OK?"

Pulling the mask over his face again, Jake hurried out of the workshop, leaving April more than a little confused.

_Was it something I said…?_

* * *

_Nice apartment._ It wasn't the first time that thought had crossed Irma's mind, since she and Donatello had arrived at April's, but if a truth is worth expressing it's probably worth expressing again. She looked round the large open-plan space and tried not to compare it with her own tiny lodgings.

Also, when it came to _her_ place, she spared not a thought for the regular teeth-rattling tremors caused by passing trains. Or the damp patch. Or the neighbors shrieking at 3am. Or... No. She didn't think about any of those things at all.

"I think, uh..." Turning to Donatello, she wondered just how to say what had to be said. There was no need. It looked like he was on the same page.

"Yeah, I know" he said, downcast. "They're not coming, are they? Something's gone wrong..." He hopped down from the tall chair he had settled on when Irma had finally persuaded him to stop pacing. "Let's go."

"Go where?"

"I, uh, I'll think about that on the way..."

As Irma followed him toward the window, she heard the quiet murmur of the switched-on TV back there in the sitting area. Hey, it might not be that important in the big scheme of things, but it would be a waste of electricity to leave it switched on. She scampered down the couple of steps, poised to switch it off, and stayed there for several seconds, mouth open in surprise at what she saw.

"Donny...?"

"Come on, will ya…? The guys might be counting on me..."

"You might want to have a look at this..."

* * *

"Uh... I don't know how clearly you can see this at home... but this is truly bizarre... I've never seen... Oh my God..."

Jim McNaughton looked over his shoulder at the streaming ranks of rats hurrying along the road and sidewalk just a few feet away from him and his crew. He turned back to the camera, and leaned in so close the lens distorted his face. "I, uh, don't know what to say... This was odd to begin with. But this is remarkable, folks. They say that no New Yorker is ever more than a few feet away from a rat. Well, think about that one and look at what's happening here. This isn't just weird behavior...

This is an invasion."

* * *

Donatello switched off the TV and leaned back in quiet contemplation. Irma stared at him.

"What's happening? This day is just getting weirder and weirder..."

"Yeah..." he replied. Then he ran back up the steps to the level of the window leading to the fire escape, grabbing his staff on the way. "Let's get going."

"Going where?" Irma sounded lost. Her keenness had its limits. She was out of her depth.

He turned, and treated her to a wide grin. "Looks like those rats are the key to whatever is going on in this city. So, we'd better find out some more about them. We're going to consult some experts..."

* * *

A shadow momentarily blocked the light coming through the window, and April looked up. What now...?

One of the large doors to the workshop creaked open and Freddy came in. She looked away again. Cool indifference was tricky to pull off while tied to a chair and gagged, but she was going to give it a try. A hint of nonchalance at the very least.

"Hello, April. Sorry to keep you waiting." Despite the warmth of his tone, his eyes were as cold as ever. He noted with amusement how far her chair had moved from its original position. "Hey, you really get around, considering..."

"Mmm- _mmm_ , mmm- _mmm_ mmmfff!" Although April's response was stifled by duct-tape, it was clear enough that what she had to say wasn't anything complimentary.

 _Ah well, so much for nonchalant_.

"You remember me, then..." Freddy said, smiling, walking round behind her. "Well, as I'm sure you've figured by now, I was moonlighting."

"Mmm _mmm_ ff" said April dismissively, glaring angrily at him as he came back into view.

"I know... I wasn't much of an assistant. But then, I had other stuff on my mind..."

"M-mmm _mmm_ fff..." said April scornfully.

"...I never thanked you for your help. It would have been much more difficult if you hadn't made me so welcome as part of your team..."

"Mmm- _mmm_ -mmmmff..." said April impatiently.

"...So I think it's time I did something for you in return."

"Mmm- _mff_?" inquired April skeptically. Her eyes widened as Freddy pulled out a knife.

* * *

Having more or less recovered their strength, the other three Turtles had decided not to investigate the Rat King's lair right away. In their weakened state, they were in no shape to face him if he returned. So, they made their way back to where they had been captured.

"Cowabunga!" Michelangelo headed straight for their discarded weapons.

"Cowa-what?" Raphael said, incredulously. And, for once, Leonardo and Raphael were on the same page.

"This is most definitely not a cowabunga situation, Mikey" Leonardo gently berated him. "At best, we've got some grounds for optimism." He leaned against the wall and sighed, dispirited. "We've got our work cut out. Master Splinter..."

He didn't continue with that train of thought. "April needs our help" he said, knowing that was just the thing to say to get the others back in the game. He accepted his swords from Michelangelo with a nod.

"That's right. April's in the hands of the Foot" Michelangelo agreed.

"Sheesh!" Raphael slapped his hand over his eyes.

"All right, so feet don't have hands. Clutches?" No one was fooled by the levity - he was worried about April. They all were.

* * *

"Mmmmfff...?" Confused, April shrugged off the ropes as Freddy cut through them. "Mmfff-mmmmmm- _mmmmm_...?"

He crouched low in front of her. "If I free your feet, will you promise not to kick me?"

"Mmmff..." said April noncommittally. After cutting the rope binding her ankles, Freddy stood up and pulled the tape from her mouth.

"Oooowww!"

"Sorry..."

He sounded anything _but_ sorry, and she shot a brief hostile glance at him. "What are you doing?" she asked again as he moved round and untied her hands.

"You're welcome. I should just have left you tied up, huh?" Freddy held out a hand.

"Maybe. I don't know." April slid off the chair, ignoring the hand, and backed away. She threw a glance at the doorway. "Where's the scary bald guy?"

"Don't worry, Tatsu won't be in charge around here for much longer." He looked sly, even slyer than normal. "There's things about to happen. Big things, too big for Tatsu to cope with. It's time he made way for a worthy successor to Master Shredder." Freddy's eyes were wide with his fanaticism.

"And that's you, huh? Yeeeaaahhh... The Foot are revolting. I always thought so."

"It's war out there, April. I can bring peace to the streets, with your help, and your friends' help."

April nodded as he spoke, like she was humoring a lunatic, backing away as he approached. "Yeah... I'd love to try and help you with all that. It sounds real important..."

"I'd say it's very important, yeah."

She decided to throw him a bit of a curve ball. Sitting back in the chair, she nodded toward the spare coils of rope hanging on the wall. "...But I've already got plans."

"Uh... What are you doing?" it was Freddy's turn to ask, nonplussed.

"I'm just going to stay here. You'd better tie me up again, or I might escape." She crossed her wrists behind her.

Freddy shook his head, and for the first time his faint smile seemed genuine. "I'm not so sure that's a good plan for you. Trust me, mine's better."

"Trust you?" April asked incredulously. "I'd rather take my chances with Tatsu. At least he's honest." Again, she looked pointedly at the rope. "…Oh yeah, and could you put the tape back on, please? Now…? 'Cause I've got _nothing_ to say to you..." She held still and waited. Whatever Freddy's plan was, she wasn't going to be co-operating.

"Hurry up, OK...?"

Still smirking, shaking his head again, Freddy left the workshop. April didn't move.

"Big things, huh?" she said scathingly. "Yeah, right. What a worthy successor you are, Freddy. I bet you'll look real nice in that armor..." She did not feel silly sitting there. No. Not remotely silly.

The doors had been left invitingly open.

* * *

"So what's this gotta do with me?" April hurried to catch up with Freddy out in the yard. The few loitering Foot ninja watched curiously, but made no move to stop her.

Matt and Jake, hidden beneath their masks, were two such onlookers. "What's he doing?" Jake inquired warily. Matt shrugged.

"The Turtles will trust you" Freddy asked April. "Won't they?"

That caught her off guard, and she thought carefully before replying. "...Yeah" she said, finally. "Yeah, they trust me. But I won't be leading them into any trap. If you think that's what'll happen, you just think again, 'cause I'd..." She set her jaw determinedly. "I'll die before I let you harm them" she continued, with just the faintest quaver of fear in her voice.

"That was Tatsu's plan" Freddy said abruptly. "Simple, unsubtle and flawed, just like him. But the Turtles aren't coming for you. Seems like they've had more important things to do." April didn't know what to make of that. What came next, however, was even more unexpected.

"I don't know how much the Turtles and their teacher have told you of the history of the feud. You know, between the Oroku and Hamato clans, way back, back in Japan. The hatred, it was so strong. It was such a waste. A waste of time, resources... A waste of lives.

The feud even survived when all that was left of the Hamato clan was a pet rat!" Freddy laughed. "It has to stop." He took a breath. "I want a treaty between the Oroku and Hamato clans, I want an end to the war."

April just stared at him for a moment, then away for another. "OK" she said at last. "That'd be nice. So, just supposing I did believe you, what am I supposed to do?"

"You'll be my envoy, April. You're the only one who can make this happen."

She laughed. "Oh... OK, yeah... I mean, that's quite an honor. Yeah, honor, I think that's the word I'm looking for... Uh, suppose I just, um, don't...?"

Freddy looked at her steadily. "Well, there's always Master Tatsu's plan... Back to the workshop...?" April's expression gave away her severe lack of enthusiasm for that option.

Freddy smiled. "So, it's a deal."

"Great!" she said, face lighting up, and she started walking away. "That means I get outta here. Expect to hear from us soon, OK? Now, where do I get a cab around here...?"

"Um, in a word, no." April had actually stopped walking even before Freddy replied, and she turned to him despondently. "Sorry, April, I need you here. Don't worry, we'll find a way for a dialog to start, but till then we're not letting go of our key bargaining chip." He leaned a little closer. "Hey, you didn't think I was stupid, did you…?"

She also leaned closer. "Hey, I'm keeping an open mind about that."

Matt was smiling under his mask, glad Freddy couldn't see him. He turned toward Jake and spoke quietly. "OK, starting to see why you like her."

A yell was heard from one of the guards at the yard gate, and Freddy snapped to alertness. Running over, he looked where the man was pointing. April went over to have a look too, since it seemed like she now had the run of the place.

Climbing up, she was stopped by one of the Foot ninja grabbing her arm, but at a nod from Freddy he let go. April looked out at the dark street outside and saw what looked like a tide of shallow water streaming along the ground.

Then she realized. It wasn't water. She might have got over her musophobia, but this was a sight that would give anyone the heebie-jeebies.

Rats. An uncountable, unstoppable horde. Coming straight for them.

* * *

 **Next:** Tatsu gets the upper hand, April lets the rat out of the bag and the Turtles avoid giant mutant fish...


	14. Fraud Most Foul

**A little under 6 weeks ago...**

"I still say we should just throw it in the river..."

"Yeah, Raph. Great. Then you can deal with all the giant mutant fish, OK...?"

Irritated, Raphael replied "I was talking metaphorically". The other Turtles all turned to look at him slowly.

"Why, Raph, I had no idea you spoke metaphorical" said Leonardo, awe-struck.

"I meant, like 'ya didn't know already, why don't we just get Professor Perry to get rid of it."

"We took a vote. This is how it is, OK?" Leonardo leaned over to touch the sheet covering the large object in front of them. Donatello blocked his hand and steered it away.

"Leo! Have a sense of occasion!" I've been working on this for days…!"

Michelangelo swiped away the sheet, casually and with no sense of occasion at all. To reveal a large black box with a heavy door, a metal handle and a lock with numerous keys set on a board below with a range of letters and numbers arrayed on it.

"Congratulations, Donny. You've invented... the safe" said Raphael. "Oh wait- Gee – You know, I think somebody already patented that one..."

Donatello chuckled. "Think again, my friend..."

Hi, guys!" April climbed down the last few rungs of the ladder into the Turtles' home, and came over to join them. "What's all this?"

"Hi, April. Just in time..." Donatello continued. "Yeah, OK, Raph, it's a safe. Well spotted. But look at the lock. Is it a common, everyday sort of lock? I'm glad you asked. No, it isn't...

The main surface is covered with a layer of molecularly bonded polymers – Thanks to Professor Perry for pulling some strings and supplying us with that – with cavities that lock together so that they can't be separated by anything but one exact set of electronic signals transmitted from the lock once we key in the release code..."

"Well, that I could've _guessed_ " said April. The others grinned, but Donatello was still caught up with his demonstration.

"Input the wrong code, and the polymers bond together permanently. You'd need, maybe, a concentrated nuclear explosion to break in."

"That's some serious security, yeah..." said April. "What's so valuable that- Oh. Yeah..." She nodded her understanding as Leonardo brought forward the object destined to go into the safe, and gently placed it inside. Donatello shut the door with the same reverence.

"It can never be allowed to fall into the wrong hands..." said Leo quietly. "We thought about destroying it, but we just can't. It's... important. Maybe one day, we might need it..."

Donatello passed round small sheets of paper on which he had written short sequences of numbers and letters. A different one for each of the Turtles. Raphael looked askance at his. Michelangelo turned his over to see if anything was written on the other side.

"Donny... Wha'?"

"I want you all to memorize that. Then get rid of the paper – destroy it."

"What is it?" Raphael demanded.

"It's red, Raph. It's the color of your bandana expressed as hexadecimal code. If we ever want to get into that safe, we all type in our part of the code. You go first." Donatello shrugged, turning to Leonardo. "I figured, anybody would assume you'd go first, Leo, being the leader. But you're second. Then Mikey. Then me. Nobody knows anyone else's part. Even I don't know them all off the top of my head.

Then there's a final release code. A short sequence of characters, at least four, less than ten. None of us will know that part." He turned to April.

"Yeah..." Leonardo took up the explanation. "We thought you might want to come up with that, April. We want you to be part of this. And, you know, it's an extra layer of security." While he was talking, Raphael laboriously typed in his code. Leo went next. Then the others.

"Guys... I, uh, don't know... Of course, yeah." She stepped forward, and Donatello set the keypad up. "I just... type it in here, huh...?" She thought for a moment, then typed in a short sequence, covering the keypad with her other hand and glancing over at them with a faint smile. "There ya go."

"Don't tell us what it is..." urged Donatello.

"Oh, I promise."

Michelangelo whispered something to Donatello and he nodded. "Yeah, probably..."

"What?" demanded April.

"Nothing."

"Well, I think it's safe to say that safe is... uh, safe" remarked Leonardo.

"Yeah" agreed Donatello. "It needs all of us to agree to open it, and all of us to be present. No way is any bad guy going to be able to get into that..." He paused. "Heh... Unless he can somehow read our minds..."

They all smiled at that.

* * *

**Now...**

The Foot had prepared themselves for a full assault by the army of rats. They pulled back to the center of the yard, some of them forming a circle round April, and watched in horrified fascination as the rats swarmed over the fence and gate as if they weren't even there.

Then, a little anticlimactically, the rats stopped. The Foot ninja stayed where they were for quite a while, braced for the inevitable attack. Which never seemed to come.

Eventually, Freddy let them move around a bit, insisting they none of them go too far. April wandered over as close as she dared to the front ranks of the rat army. "What are you waiting for?" she asked uneasily.

They all faced forward. Eyes bright and alert. Noses twitched occasionally. Otherwise, they showed no signs of activity.

She flinched as someone appeared at her shoulder and held out a cup of water. "Hey! Don't do that!" She took the cup all the same.

"I thought you'd be thirsty" said Jake.

"What's your name?" April asked. He thought for a long moment. "You don't know?" she demanded mischievously, and he gave a brief flicker of a smile.

"Of course I know. I'm Jake."

"Hi, Jake. I'm April. But then, you know that, huh…? Unless you kidnapped me at random, and by a lucky coincidence I turn out to be the Turtle's friend." Finishing the water, she gave him back the cup, looking at him steadily. April realized she was making Jake really uneasy. Why was that…?

 _Oh… Right._ She got it. As if she didn't have enough to contend with.

He frowned. "You're... You're really friends with those things?"

"Yeah..." she said instantly, surprised by the question. She didn't get to clarify the matter, however, as Matt came over and beckoned Jake back to the main group. April and Matt shared a brief look of mutual assessment.

"Freddy's watching you..." she heard Matt warn Jake as they walked away.

"So..?" came Jake's reply.

April sighed wearily. She wanted to get out of here. Away from the rats. Away from the Foot ninja with a crush, because _Yeah, sweet and all_ , but she didn't really know how to deal with that. Away from Freddy especially, before he got bored with whatever trick he was playing and had her tied up again.

Or his little rebellion against Tatsu failed and _he_ had her tied up again. She had a horrible feeling there wasn't much chance of avoiding that whatever happened.

She just really, _really_ , wanted to get out of here.

Just then, some kind of instinct kicked in, and somehow April knew that the situation was about to change - The rats didn't look any different, but something was definitely about to happen. She glanced at Freddy, and he was looking back at her.

He knew it too.

She ran back to the protective ring of Foot ninja and they all faced the ranks of rats, weapons held in readiness. Ready for battle. Then came the sudden noise as a large heavy object flew through the air and landed.

Behind them.

They all turned. A manhole cover had been sent flying and a figure had emerged from the tunnel below. A man swathed in rags and bandages stood before them.

"Now that…" mused April, with just a little trepidation, "I did _not_ expect..."

* * *

"Chief Sterns...!" Sterns, climbing out of his car, looked over at the overweight man waddling toward him across the sidewalk, microphone in hand and camera crew chasing behind him. He walked, a little quicker than was his habit, up the steps of the Manhattan Municipal Building. "Chief Sterns!" came the insistent voice again as Jim McNaughton reached him.

_Channel 3? Then where's...?_

"I got no comment to make. Whatever it is, I got no comment. That is all. Thank you for coming."

"Chief Sterns, we're live. On air right now. I'm sure the viewers would like to know what you're doing currently about the rat invasion."

"The rat…? The rat what?"

"Are you saying you are unaware of the crisis, Chief?"

"What? Of course not! The situation is in hand. The rat overpopulation problem is being looked at right now, and possible solutions being investigated by the right people. If the area you live in is affected by the problem, please stay indoors in the short term and await assistance."

"And can I ask the Chief what he is doing at the Manhattan Municipal building at the height of this particular crisis...?"

Sterns gave Jim a withering look. "I got a broken faucet needs fixing." He passed through the main doors. Jim turned to the camera and opened his mouth to address the viewers. Then he ended up just shrugging.

* * *

The Rat King looked at Freddy for quite a few seconds, and the Foot's acting commander dropped his gaze and looked at the ground. Then he advanced toward April, and nearby Foot ninja backed away and gave them space.

"What…? Oh, thanks, guys! You'd make great bodyguards…!" Despite her alarm April only backed off a few paces before standing her ground, not really knowing why. It just seemed like the better option. It didn't really seem to make sense to her that this guy might mean her harm.

He faced her for a long moment and April met his eye, more curious than afraid. She didn't know this man, never met him, but still... There was something strangely familiar about him...

"The safe" said the Rat King gruffly, with no preamble. "What is the last release code?"

April's mouth opened and closed without any words emerging, so astonished was she by the question. Without apparently waiting for any reply, he stepped away. "Thank you."

"...Huh...?" She was having a real problem making sense of this.

"I said thank you. You initiated our mental link some hours ago. It allowed me to take the release code from the surface of your mind with no difficulty."

April automatically stepped back, away from him, as if extra distance would help. "What...? You mean...?" He turned away and took a step toward Freddy, but she moved round to stand in front of him again, insistent. "The rat…? That was... you?" She was incredulous. "No way...!"

"Way... " he said gently. "I mean, yes, it was."

"...I called it Whiskers..."

"I know. I found that amusing."

"Well, hey..." April said with a nervous laugh, "I'm here all week..." Her face took on an appalled look as she realized what she had said. "Oh _God_ , I really hope that's not true..."

"Excuse me" he said, and stepped round her, advancing toward Freddy. who backed away but soon found nowhere to retreat to. The Rat King seized him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. His face reddened and started darkening even further as consciousness started to slip away.

"You were planning to betray me... No, don't insult me by attempting to deny it. Just know this - I will be watching. I will not kill you, for one reason only. You may still be useful. Do not attempt to deceive me again. If I require any further service from you, you will be told. Otherwise, stay out of my way."

Letting Freddy drop to the ground, unconscious, the Rat King turned to the others and let his gaze pass over them indifferently. He strode over to the blasted open manhole and jumped in, disappearing from sight.

April rushed forward, stopping as one of the masked ninja stepped forward to intercept. _Yeah, like I was really going to jump in after him..._ Actually, she had seriously considered it.

She turned back to see Matt casually checking Freddy for signs of life, and Jake moved over to her with a concerned look on his face. Despite everything, she found herself smiling and patting his arm reassuringly.

Ruefully hoping she wasn't succumbing to Stockholm syndrome, April watched as the tide of rats retreated from the gate.

* * *

"Listen, Jack, I'm kind of busy today, I've got quite a lot going on... So, unless this is real important..." Bryan Bryant stopped as he entered his supervisor's office and looked blankly at the man sitting at the desk. It wasn't Jack.

Chief Sterns got up and came over to join Bryan near the door. "Mister Bryant? I'm glad you could come. I need to have a word with you."

"Um, yeah, of course Chief. What's this about?"

"Down at the station, Bryan."

"As I say, Chief, I've got a lot going on. I'm real busy. Can this wait?"

"Yeah, I've been hearing how busy you've been. Bryan, you're aware, I take it, that a lot of funds have been disappearing from your department? And a few others."

"Uh... Yeah..." Bryan just stared at him. What was going on?

"I'll cut to the chase. We know it's you." Bryan looked behind him as two uniformed cops entered the office. It was a few seconds before he could really take this in.

Wait a minute. Was he being arrested?

"Sorry, Chief. This is all a horrible misunderstanding. I think you'll find if you check that this is a mistake. And, you know what, while you do that, I'll just get back to work. But if you want me to come with you, you'll just have to arrest me."

"You're under arrest."

* * *

Bryan was dazed as he had his rights explained to him. Dazed as he was escorted down in the elevator. Dazed as he was led out into the car. Dazed as he was driven away.

Dazed as the other car slammed the one he was in off the road. Dazed as he was grabbed out of the back and bundled into the other car by men in some kind of military gear, but without insignia of any kind.

Mercenaries? What the-?

"Here we are. As agreed. Everything is going to plan." One of his kidnappers said that to him as though it was supposed to make some kind of sense. Bryan looked him in the eye for the first time.

"What is this? Who are you?"

The man grinned, and looked at Bryan questioningly. "Uh... You OK?"

"Who do you work for?" Bryan demanded.

The man grinned again. "Right now? I work for you!"

* * *

"Be careful" Donatello urged Irma as they made their way along the sewer tunnel.

Wearing the look of disgust that had been pretty much permanently etched on her face since they had come down here, Irma replied "Yeah, I don't think I've ever been so motivated to be careful..." She was choosing her footing very carefully, not sure whether she really wished she could see better down here or not. Sometimes ignorance was bliss.

"Did we really have to come this way?" she asked gloomily.

"You know what, believe it or not, I sometimes attract attention on the surface."

"Yeah, I suppose..."

"Though, thinking about it, you could have just met me there..."

"Now you think of that." Irma was watching her feet carefully as they turned a corner, and was startled as a shadow fell over her. She looked up.

The face that was staring back at her appeared to be Donatello's. That was impossible, he was standing right next to her. Unless...

"Donny!" Three Turtles all shouted at once, excitedly. The four Turtles, reunited, all made to hug each other, but ended up feeling awkward and exchanging handshakes instead.

Remembering his manners, Donatello indicated his companion. "Guys, this is Irma..."

"Hey" said Raphael, "Donny's got himself a sidekick."

"Hi, Turtles..." Irma replied. "But for the record, I'm no one's sidekick. I think you'll find no one will ever define me as _anyone else's_ sidekick."

"Join the club" Raph continued. "Looks like more people know about us up there now than the ones who don't..." His demeanor lightened. "Hey, no offense, I'm not getting' at 'ya'. It's nice to meet you."

"Hi, Irma" said Michelangelo. "I don't suppose you know where we can get some pizza, no questions asked?"

"You're Michelangelo, aren't you?" asked Irma.

"Guys" said Donatello, stepping forward. "What's been going on? Have you heard anything about April or Master Splinter...?" The others exchanged glances. Not sure how to break it to him.

Irma walked away a few paces, giving them some space. And yelped as a strong black-clad arm suddenly looped around her and held her tightly. Another hand clamped over her mouth and she was pulled into the darkness.

"At last!" The Turtles turned at the sound of the voice and found themselves face to face with Tatsu. The imposing Foot master was accompanied by several armed Foot ninja.

"Turtles..." he hissed. "Finally, you face me."

"Yeah." Leonardo was allowed through the others to stand facing Tatsu. Hands on his swords, ready for action. "How did you know I was just itching for a fight? Well, before we go for this, I got one question. What have you done with April? Where is she?"

Tatsu smiled grimly as one of his ninja stepped forward with Irma held firmly ahead of him. She looked sheepishly at the Turtles. "Sorry, guys..."

Leonardo led the way toward them, but stopped abruptly as a ninja threatened Irma with his sword. Tatsu started to back away slowly. "You will come to us. At junkyard. Two hours from now. Or this one, and reporter... will die."

The Turtles had no choice but to let their enemies, and their new friend, vanish into the darkness.

* * *

**Next:** Todd finds Chekhov's gun, Irma really hits it off with the Foot and Tatsu wraps up warm...


	15. Playing it Safe

As was his habit, Todd snuck out and went up the hill to the old factory that night, as he did every night, in case his peculiar new friends had decided to come back. They _had_ warned him they might suddenly disappear at some point, but Leo had promised they would come back and visit.

He discovered a Honda motorcycle on its side, unattended. That was weird, and just a little bit exciting. "Honda…" he breathed. "CB750K8… Nice…" He picked up the discarded helmet lying next to it. Weirder still.

Then he noticed the other vehicles. A couple of vans, and next to the main entrance a couple of black-clad guys... With guns! Todd dropped into cover, inhibited a little by his injured knee. What was going on here?

Todd noticed that although these guys had the main entrance covered they didn't seem to have bothered with the one round the back. Cautiously, moving slowly and keeping to the shadows, he made his way round there and into the building.

As he suspected, there were more of these guys in the rooms the Turtles had lived in during the weeks they had spent here. Ransacking the place. He heard a series of loud thuds, and the wall he was huddling against as he listened shuddered with the impact each time.

They seemed to have found what they were looking for, and Todd watched from hiding as they went by carrying a medium-sized safe with an odd-looking locking mechanism attached to the front of it. Booted feet marched over the smooth floors, squeaking a little as they turned corners. Yeah, Todd thought, these guys were military. Or ex-military.

He took a look at the Turtles' place. It was a mess, there was stuff scattered all over the place. Pretty much as they had left it. One thing was different. That newly plastered wall he had noticed when he was here but thought little about. It was broken, the plaster and the boards underneath removed and thrown to the side. What was the betting that safe had come from back there?

Todd went back out the way he had come in, unnoticed as the vehicles left the empty parking lot and onto the winding road that led back down the hill. What had he just witnessed?

He looked at the helmet he was still holding against his chest. He tried it on for size. Not a bad fit. He looked over at the Honda. Hmmm...

The Turtles needed to know about this.

* * *

"Great! Just great!" Leonardo paced rapidly back and forth in the limited space afforded by the narrow tunnel, running his hand along the top of his domed head. "What are we going to do now...?"

Michelangelo shrugged. "What the man says. Doesn't look like we have a choice."

The others looked at him questioningly. _Since when...?_

"That's what I was gonna say." Raphael reached out and opened Michelangelo's mouth and looked inside. "You OK, Mikey? Say _Aaaaaa..._ "

Donatello leaned forward on his staff. "Can't escape it, Leo. They've got us."

Leonardo looked round the three of them in turn. "OK, guys... This is it... April and Irma are counting on us..." He held his hand out, facing down, digits spread. The others placed theirs on his, one by one.

" _One for all..._ " they said together. " _...And all for kickin' some Foot butt!_ "

"Umm... Foot _butt_...?"

"Don't spoil the moment, Donny."

* * *

Freddy struggled to his feet, feeling sick. The leader of the Foot Clan in New York could not afford to show any vulnerability. "Report" he snapped at Matt.

Matt said simply "He's gone".

"The girl..." Freddy looked round, a little confused. "Please don't tell me you let her go..."

April was sitting nearby, looking bored. "Hi" she said lethargically, raising her hand in a decidedly unenthusiastic wave. " _The girl_ , who has a name, is right here... Unfortunately."

"Why would we let her go?" asked Matt.

"I've no idea..." replied Freddy, glancing briefly at Jake.

"What did that guy with the bandages mean...?" asked Jake. "He said you were gonna betray him."

Freddy looked at him without blinking. Jake wasn't going to back down. "Politics, gentlemen..." he said at last, conceding the need for some explanation. "We're not quite the big players in this town that we were under Master Shredder. Those few weeks when we were scrabbling around just trying to stay alive and free, I made some deals that helped us..." He saw that a running Foot ninja had arrived at the gate and was now breathlessly delivering a message to Matt.

"What kind of deals?" Jake wasn't so easily fobbed off. Freddy was uneasily aware that he had been thoroughly humiliated in front of them all by the Rat King. It was time to reassert his authority.

Jake in particular needed to be taught his place...

"Master Tatsu's coming back" announced Matt. "He says he's got the Turtles close behind." A gleam in his eye betrayed his excitement. This was it... "Better get ready" he added.

 _Dammit..._ This was not the plan... Still, plenty of chances to deal with Tatsu later. With a tinge of regret, Freddy's gaze darted to their prisoner. There was no way he could let Tatsu see April wandering around free. This development was bad news for him, but it was even worse for her.

* * *

This wasn't happening... This wasn't happening. All right, she had happily signed up to a life of excitement and intrigue, but this wasn't remotely what Irma had had in mind. The Foot ninja surrounding her and bustling her further and further away from any possible escape struck her as nasty, brutal and cruel, and that was just their good points.

Tatsu made them all move faster and faster as they apparently neared their destination. Of all of them, he worried her the most. "Hey! Some of us have shorter legs, you know...!" she called. They ignored her.

She tried again. "Hey! As your hostage, and that makes me pretty important, the way I see things, I vote we rest for a minute. Who's with me…? Huh…?"

To her astonishment, they stopped. Tatsu had apparently called a halt, and the command was relayed back along the line. With the generally tall ninja blocking her view, Irma couldn't see what had happened but they seemed to getting all agitated about something.

Then the rats struck! Dozens of them. No, hundreds. No, thousands. No, it had to be basically all of them. The Foot ninja scattered in all directions, and the ones holding Irma let go. She found herself suddenly free, but with nowhere to go. Nowhere that the rats weren't swarming over. Climbing over all the obstacles the street had to offer, and even on each other, the rodents had reduced Tatsu's orderly column to chaos in seconds.

He was furious about that too. Swiping at them with his long stick, he caught more than one of them a blow that made them spin in mid-air and disappear into the massed ranks. Tatsu fought fiercely, fearlessly... and pointlessly. There were too many for him to have any impact.

Now there were rats climbing along his stick, and he dropped it. They enveloped him till he became an amorphous struggling mass of rodents and finally collapsed. The ranks surged over his motionless body.

Irma looked round desperately for somewhere to hide. Nothing very promising presented itself. Without thinking about it, she leaped for a drainpipe on the side of the nearest building and climbed as far up as she could, resisting the impetus to slide down it. She hung on, eyes closed, expecting to share Tatsu's fate any moment.

The cacophonous shrieking of rats, and the terrified yells of Foot ninja, lessened and faded away. Irma opened one eye, cautiously. The street was deserted. She took a long breath and exhaled slowly.

She was all right. Wow.

She was a few feet off the ground, and from here it looked pretty clear to her that the massive garbage dump must have been Tatsu's destination. Squinting, she could make out some lights. There was a junkyard on the edge of the dump.

Now, Irma had recently listened to a detailed account of the Turtle's most recent encounter with the Foot Clan and Donny had related their narrow escape from the junkyard with a contagious enthusiasm. This junkyard – it must have been.

April was being held somewhere in that yard. This may not be quite the sort of help she would be hoping for, but...

Irma approached the yard, determined but cautious, keeping to the shadows.

* * *

"Put her back in the workshop!" Freddy commanded harshly. April was distracted by her own thoughts, unaware she was now the focus of attention. She felt bad about having just let the Rat King have the access code to the Turtles' safe, even though it wasn't her fault. Then the full ramifications occurred to her, and she paled.

 _No_ , that didn't bear thinking about...

Two Foot ninja suddenly grabbed her and dragged her over to Freddy. "Hey, easy...!" she cried indignantly, wriggling free for a moment. "Hands off!" They seized her again. "Freddy…? What the heck-?!"

"Didn't you hear me?" Freddy said irritably. "I said put her back in the workshop. Tie her up."

"What-? No…! That's _not_ happening, OK...!" April struggled as the two ninja started leading her away. "Hey, wait!" she shouted desperately. "Wait, OK?! Wait!"

Freddy signaled them to stop. They turned her to face him, but kept their grip on her arms. He walked over. "You said wait. OK. What?" he said, gesturing for her to speak.

"I... Uh..." April was lost for words, but anxious to waste time. "I... I don't think it's a good idea...!"

"You don't, huh?" Freddy smiled and April smiled back, warily, not knowing where he was going with this.

"Uh, no. All that stuff about a treaty, what about that…? You know, peace on the streets...? The Clans united...?"

"Well, for now it looks like we're going with Master Tatsu's plan after all. I don't think your friends will let you suffer if they think they can stop it." A jerk of his head in the direction of the workshop, and April was dragged away.

Jake stepped forward, apparently about to say something. Freddy wordlessly dared him to. He impatiently beckoned Matt over, and stood close enough to talk without being overheard.

" _If he asks_ , we freed her and questioned her about the Turtles, OK? She told us little of any value, and we put her right back where she was..."

"That's the story..." said Matt. He had no plans to contest Freddy's version.

" _That's what happened_ " Freddy asserted.

* * *

"Hey, I want it on record here... You know, I never actually believed him..."

The Foot ninja pushed April through the doorway into the workshop. One of them dragged the chair over, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. The other brought down coils of rope from the hook on the wall. April watched, a look of dismay on her face.

"OK, guys... Let's take a minute here..." One of them pushed her down onto the chair. "Hey...!"

The next few seconds were confusing. A thud, a low groan, and one of the ninja slumped over and toppled to the floor! The other one turned and moved toward their attacker-

-Irma!

Channel 3's newest intern stood like a rabbit in the headlights, holding a sturdy plank of timber with both hands. As the other Foot ninja leaped at her she gave a loud yelp and closed her eyes tight. April had her foot in the ninja's path, however, and he tripped and fell heavily.

As he rolled and stood up again, April was already halfway across the workshop. She pulled at a torn old curtain hanging from a rail and threw it over the man's head. As he struggled to get out from under the curtain, Irma thwacked him with the wooden plank and he collapsed in a pile of musty fabric and a cloud of dust.

Irma stared at the carnage, mouth slightly open, till April grabbed her by the shoulders, startling her. "Irma! What are you doing here? No, it doesn't matter. Let's get out of here..." Both Foot ninja were stirring, moaning groggily, and April grabbed Irma's hand and went to the back door of the workshop.

"Hey!" Another Foot ninja was on his way through the main door.

"Move!" April shoved Irma through the door and dived after her, slamming it behind them and looking round desperately for something to block it. Irma had snapped out of her reverie, however, and was already hauling a battered chaise longue sofa from the piles of junk around them. The two of them dragged it across the doorway as the Foot ninja started battering at the other side.

"Something tells me you're gonna get a good grade for your first evaluation!" April gasped with a smile. "Come on!" She grabbed Irma's hand again and they clambered up onto the massive pile of junk at the back of the workshop. Several Foot ninja were already squeezing their way round the side of the building to pursue them.

"Sorry I haven't been around to help you settle in...!" gasped April as they fled.

"Uh... That's OK!"

"Yeah... I've, uh, been _a little tied up_...!" April almost couldn't believe she had just said that. The ability to make jokes under pressure was good and all, but she really wished she had a few more of the Turtles' skills right about now...

* * *

Bryan had found himself in one of the old storehouses down at the docks, and to his surprise was led to a very well-equipped lab. The white-coated technicians all nodded familiarly as he came in, escorted by the mercenary.

A woman maybe a couple of years Bryan's senior, with frizzy hair and large tinted glasses and a decidedly harassed air, came over, waving an unlit cigarette in his direction. "You know, I didn't really expect you yet. I hope you're not going to get my people all stressed, they're working flat out and you know this project means as much to them as it does to you and about half as much as it does to me and before you start on about the cigarette it's not lit so just give me a break, OK, Mr so-called Hynten if that's really your name? It helps me relax."

Bryan took a step back, not really sure what to make of that. He peered at the woman's name badge. Dr Mabel Pearson...

"Uh, my name's not..." Bryan found himself turning along with the rest of them as the door opened and someone else came into the room.

"Ah, Mister Hynten senior, I was wondering if you would make it..." said Doctor Pearson.

The man wore a new dark suit. Bryan could tell it was new because it still had the price tags on. The face was long and solemn and deeply-lined, with traces of old scars. And strangely familiar. Bryan peered again, wishing not for the first time he had managed to keep a hold on his glasses, before he was distracted by the half-dozen rats that came into the room after the new arrival and started investigating the furthest corners. No one else seemed remotely troubled by this.

"Bryan..." said the Rat King warmly. "Glad you could make it..."

"Make it...?"

"All this is your doing, Bryan. All yours... The beginnings of an empire. Our empire... I'm sorry, I will explain, I promise. Doctor Pearson, are we nearly ready…?"

"We've been ready for some time, actually, Mister Hynten" she said pointedly.

"Yes, point taken, doctor. I found that isolating the catalyst was more challenging than I had anticipated..." Bryan realized suddenly where he had seen this man's face before. Hynten...

"Uncle Larry..." he gasped. The Rat King turned to him. Could this actually be his missing uncle, unseen for nearly sixteen years…?

"That" he said. "And so much more..."

* * *

The Turtles kept close to the side of buildings as they made their way toward the junkyard. Fortunately, there were few people around. Their habit of secrecy was ingrained, even after their recent very public appearances and even now Master Splinter was gone - not that any of them had had the time to process that fact properly. Though frankly, if anybody did happen to catch sight of them in their rush to help April and Irma, too bad.

They almost collided with the several Foot ninja coming in the other direction. In their panic, the masked men just stood there. It was almost too easy. With all of them unconscious on the ground a few moments later, Donatello was the first to speak.

"Ummm, guys... I think that was some of the ones Tatsu had with him."

"How can you tell...? Raphael asked. Then he thought about it more. " _Actually, how could you possibly tell?_ They're all wearing masks!"

Donatello shrugged. "Hey, some of us see beyond the surface, Raph. But anyway... There's something-"

Their explanation erupted around the corner a moment later. Rats! The Turtles reflexes, honed since hatchlinghood, saved them from enduring the same thing all over again. They all jumped in different directions, grabbing for any holds available and pulling themselves up the walls of the nearby building, unaware they were paralleling Irma's recent experiences.

"No way are we going through all that again" said Leonardo determinedly. "Next time we tangle with that guy, it's on our terms." He jumped down first, and the others followed as the rats disappeared into the distance.

"Which way?" demanded Michelangelo.

"I vote whatever way they're going we go the other way" Raphael suggested. There was no need for a vote. The Turtles moved into the next street.

The bright lights that were suddenly switched on blinded them, and they were unable to do anything about the darts that were fired out of the darkness behind the dazzling illumination. Several darts were fired. At least four found their mark.

Donatello grabbed at his dart woozily, where it was sticking out of his arm. "Hey..." After a couple of attempts he pulled it out and held it up so their unseen assailants could see it. "Hey... Is this some kind of..." He sniffed the end of the dart. "I bet this is midazolam... Am I right...?" He slumped to the ground, where the others had already fallen before him.

Several men came running forward, and the dart guns, as well as some of the bullet-firing kind, were pointed toward the Turtles as they lay on the ground. Cops.

Chief Sterns peered down at his successfully captured giant mutant Turtles. Turtles, that's right. Armed Turtles. With masks, like Zorro. Could this day get any weirder?

* * *

The Rat King took a long time to open the safe, as the technicians and the still shell-shocked Bryan looked on. Urgency was not worth the risk of making a mistake. He inputted each of the Turtles' codes one by one. His fingers moved rapidly over the keys, but even so it was quite time-consuming. Then finally he completed it with April's sequence, smiling slightly as he retrieved it from his memory. H... A... R... R... 1... E... T.

Finally, it was done. He opened the safe and reverently took out the object inside, and ran his finger along the cracked surface of the canister, along the remnant of the company logo. T... G... R... I...

"What is it?" Bryan asked, when he realized no one else was going to. The Rat King looked over at him.

"The future..." Realizing that confused his audience more than it impressed them, he deigned to give them more. "I already have an army of rats..." he said. "This will give me an army the likes of which the world has never seen...!"

* * *

 **Next:** Freddy gets promoted, Irma resigns and the Turtles go public...


	16. Stay Cagey

"Get her back here!" Freddy commanded in a snarl, and turned savagely on the Foot ninja standing there awaiting orders. "And if you can't... Don't bother coming back!" The man ran off in relief.

Freddy walked across the yard, head spinning. As another masked ninja approached he snapped "What is it?"

"Something you should see, sir. Uh... Master."

"Don't call me Master, you moron. Do I look like... Master Tatsu...?" Freddy tailed off as his eyes were drawn to the other ninja behind this one, and the cannibalized door they were carrying. On it, a large human figure, covered with a looted curtain. He might be obscured beneath, but the body was instantly recognizable.

Freddy just stared at it, as Matt and Jake came over. A glance under the curtain, and Matt nodded to Freddy. It _was_ Tatsu.

"Rats" said Matt. No other explanation was needed.

Freddy took a long breath. The Rat King had met his half of the bargain. That was unexpected. If he had known that, he could have continued to work on April O'Neil. He was sure he had been part-way toward getting her co-operation... Too late now. Even if she was recaptured - and she would be, he was determined on it - that option was gone. No plan survived contact with the enemy, he reminded himself.

He needed time to think. Annoyingly Matt came and stood very close.

"We all feared Master Shredder's anger... I think we feared Master Tatsu even more. I know you think that's how you've gotta be... But they could do that stuff because... They had the weight." Freddy's look in response to this was a dangerous one. He was a second away from ordering Matt's death.

"I'm not saying you don't have what it takes. I'm just saying, you have to be different. You have to use what _you_ got." The thing that annoyed Freddy most, and that he hated to admit, was that this was good advice. Matt had himself a reprieve.

"Are you the new Tatsu to my Shredder...?" Freddy asked quietly, eyes narrowed. "Or the Freddy to my Tatsu...?"

"I'm not the new anything" Matt replied, stepping back. "I'm just me."

"Get them all together" Freddy said decisively. "We're heading out."

* * *

April and Irma had lost their pursuers and finally stopped amid the junk for a much-needed rest. Time to catch a breath, and to think about their next move. April was kicking herself. Not literally - that would have confused her companion more than a little - but certainly in her mind.

After defiantly refusing the Foot's attempt to make her betray her friends once, she came so close to falling for it the second time. All it had taken was for the offer to be repackaged with some bogus peace talks and the chance to get free from those ropes.

Anyway. Learn and move on. Never again.

"Yeah..." She considered carefully before continuing. "Look, Irma, I know some people who might be able to deal with this... Well, you know, I say people..."

"You mean the Turtles...?" Irma's answer came back quickly and almost casually, and made April look at her in astonishment.

"OK... You've met them, then... Looks like a lot was going on while I was stuck in that junkyard. Anything else I need to know...?"

Irma thought for a moment, and bit her lip. "Well... I suppose there is. I was going to save this for later, but I should probably tell you now..." Once she had made her mind up, Irma's confession came out in a rush. "I was spying on you. I was following orders, but that's no excuse, I know that's no excuse. I snuck into your office, and I found your Renaissance Boys note and that led me to the Turtles' place, and I met Donny, and then all the others. And I'm sorry, I really am. Sorry..."

Waiting patiently for her to finish, April didn't exactly look thrilled but she took this news better than Irma had feared. She said just one word. "Phil?"

"Yeah."

"OK."

"It's fine, I know you won't want me to be your assistant after this is over, I know. And it's fine. It's OK. I'll resign."

April's amusement grew as Irma went on. "I forgive you" she said laconically, when it was time to reply.

"I know, I- Really?"

"Really. Hey, you're better than my last assistant. _He_ is well and truly fired. But you know, right now, we've got a bit of an emergency going on. So, maybe..."

"Yeah... Yeah, of course..."

April thought for a moment. "I know we should probably head back to the station, we really should, but I'm going to try to contact the guys first. You don't need to come – you can go and report to Phil, make sure he sees you being great in a crisis..."

Irma looked hesitant. "Uh, if you don't mind I'd rather go with you. Unless... Yeah, OK..."

April frowned, confused. "What…?"

"No, it's not... It's just... I know you were with them long before I came along. I don't want to... you know... get in the way."

"No... That's not it... Uh, no, I'm not..." Realizing the extent of the misunderstanding, April was a little flustered. "I'm not being jealous here, OK?"

"Yeah, of course."

April thought for a moment. "OK, change of plan. We both join the Turtles and see what we can do to help. Phil will just have to manage without us."

"He's got Jim McNaughton filling in."

April couldn't help herself - She laughed, before stifling the reaction. "Yeah... Good old Jim... My first day, he clicked his fingers at me and demanded I get him coffee."

"Did you?"

"Yeah..." April looked sidelong at Irma. "He never asked again."

After a moment, they both laughed.

* * *

Bryan was getting more and more confused. In the hour since he had arrived he had been told so much and yet so little. This was a top-secret federal project to come up with an effective universal liquid suspension for a range of fast-acting animal inoculations. Or this was, if he understood his long-lost Uncle Larry's (!) explanation correctly, a means of turning rats into some kind of super-soldier.

There had so far been no adequate explanation of why Uncle Larry was accompanied at all times by a bunch of rats, which had taken up positions around the room and more or less stayed there. Dr Pearson and the others didn't react, so presumably this was a known and accepted quirk.

One of those rats had taken up residence next to Bryan himself, and it looked up at him in a way that made him a little uneasy. Like it was... guarding him.

"If this works, this could mean an end to a range of animal-affecting viruses and murrain... Even myxomatosis..." explained Dr Pearson, who it turned out was an industrial chemist. "No more mass culls with the associated economic and social damage that involves... It could solve half the world's food supply problems, and save lives. Frankly, if we pull this off, it's the greatest achievement in animal medicine since... Well, ever."

With the arrival of Lawrence Hynten and his promised chemical catalyst, the final ingredient essential to making the liquid suspension stable enough for mass deployment, it was now possible to go forward. Dr Pearson had not been impressed that she had first been required to synthesize a supply of said chemical from some dehydrated residue, but with Nobel Prizes in her sights she was willing to break a few eggs to make this particular omelette.

No questions asked. It was an arrangement that had solved a lot of problems for her lately, and she wasn't going to change that approach just yet.

" _Please..._ " said the voice. " _Listen to me..._ " The voice in his head. Oh no, now on top of everything else, Bryan realized he was actually hearing a voice in his head. " _You cannot let him do this... You must_ "-

-There! A quick shake of his head, and it looked like that had done it. He was just overwrought, that was all. The Japanese man in his head was just a symptom of stress and extreme fatigue. He was going to be fine.

Uncle Larry took him aside. "The test will be any minute now, Bryan. Before it happens, I am going to do something that may make you feel a little strange at first. But you must trust me..."

Bryan didn't know quite how to react to that, but Larry didn't give him much time to do anything. He just said "Sleep."

_"...Wake."_

He didn't know what had just occurred, but when Bryan was next aware of his surroundings he was still standing in the same place. Same room, same people, same Larry. Everything else was different. He knew. He understood. Everything. The plan. Uncle Larry's plan. No, not Uncle Larry. He was certainly in there, but the man standing in front of him was more than that.

Hyn'tnn... The Rat King. His plan was nearing fruition. And Bryan had been vital to its execution.

Good news - he hadn't been suffering blackouts after all. Bad news - he had, in a hypnotized state, helped to initiate an offensive that might result in the overthrow of human civilization. Oh, and also, he was starting to hear his conscience in his head speaking with the voice of a Japanese man of mature years.

Interesting night.

* * *

"So what happened to Splinter…?"

"Don didn't know. There was no sign of him..." Irma followed April down the ladder into the Turtles' subterranean home, and the two of them performed a quick search. "And there wasn't much time to talk to the other guys before those ninja thugs showed up..."

Taking off her jacket and leaving it over the back of a chair, April grimaced at the mention of the Foot. "Yeah... Try being their guest... Would _not_ recommend..." She went over and stood at Donatello's work bench, absently turning the handle on the vice. "There's something else going on, Irma... Something bigger than the Foot..."

"Really _big_ feet…?"

"That guy who can control rats..." April's eyes widened at a horrible realization. "Oh God... Splinter..." They looked at each other in alarm, Irma coming to the same realization.

April turned, mind shying away from even thinking about the implications of Splinter being turned against them. "OK..." she said, trying to distract herself, "You know, I really need to start keeping a change of clothes down here..."

Irma wandered over to the TV. "Mind if I...? You never know, maybe it'll tell us something useful..."

* * *

"And as this night's strange events continue, a new development. Believe it or not, folks, but word has reached us of our old friends, those Ninja Turtles - you remember them...?" Jim McNaughton took a breath before continuing. "...The Ninja Turtles are apparently in the custody of the NYPD at this very moment after a meticulously planned capturing operation. Now you may or may not believe in the veracity of the famous Ninja Turtle reports from weeks back..."

* * *

\- " _...But I'm sure you'll agree... This is an interesting development, to say the least..._ "

The sound of Jim's voice coming out of the TV echoed a little in the subway station. "Hey, look at that..." Irma pointed in the direction of the screen and looked over to see April's reaction.

Jacket slung over her arm, her friend was already hurrying up the ladder. "Come on!" April urged.

* * *

"Handsome fellas, ain't ya...?"

"Thanks" said Michelangelo cheerfully.

They were in what looked like a gym hall. One entrance. Climbing bars all along each wall. Floor space enough for the four large steel cages that had been put here at very short notice. The zoologist that had come with the cages stood looking at them. An hour had passed since he had first become aware of the Turtles' existence, and he still wasn't near to processing it.

Sterns walked around the cages, arranged as corners of a square, spaced far enough to prevent any of the Turtles reaching the others. Raphael gripped the bars tightly and glowered at the Chief as he passed, Sterns being careful not to come within reach. Michelangelo gave him a cheerful nod and a thumbs up. Donatello just looked back at him with polite interest.

He stopped at Leonardo, who was pointedly facing away. Becoming aware of their captor's proximity, Leonardo glanced round. "Oh. Hi."

"Amazing" breathed Sterns. "I'll never get used to that." He turned to the zoologist. "What could cause something like this?" The zoologist thought for a long moment, and seemed to reach a conclusion - He shrugged.

"You're the leader, aren't you?" Sterns asked Leonardo. "I can always smell the leader."

Leonardo looked confused for a moment, and gingerly sniffed his own armpits. He turned around to face Sterns, looking a little hurt. "Well, it's been a very trying day."

"I could be the leader" Raphael said quietly and a little sulkily. "For all you know..."

Sterns produced a sheaf of photographic prints from a folder he was carrying. Looking like he couldn't quite believe what he was doing, he held them up so that Leonardo and Donatello could see them. Raphael and Michelangelo squinted through three and two sets of bars respectively to try to get a look.

"Do you know anything about this?" The pictures showed a New York street in disarray - a streetlight toppled to the ground, windows smashed, cars destroyed. "This was six weeks ago."

"Oh, that must have been Tokka and Rahzar, guys" piped up Michelangelo. "Am I right? I can't see from here."

"Mikey!" Raphael exclaimed.

"What?" Michelangelo considered for a moment. "Oh, yeah. Sorry."

"It's not often I encounter giant walking talking animals carrying martial arts weapons" mused Sterns. "And I'm a cop in New York City! Nasty looking weapons as well." He spoke to Michelangelo. "Those things you were carrying, my friend…? Not exactly a string of sausages!" He added with a hint of a smile "You could hurt somebody with those things..."

"That's not what we're about" replied Leonardo. "We protect people, not hurt them."

Sterns raised his eyebrows. "Do you, really? You know, that's my job..."

"Well maybe if you did that job better, pal, we wouldn't..." Raphael tailed off. This wouldn't do them any good.

"That's right... _pal_..." said Sterns. "Get it off your... That is a chest, right?" He glanced at the zoologist as if for confirmation.

"I'd call it a carapace" the man replied.

Sterns shook his head. Didn't the guy know a rhetorical question when he heard one? "Are you in any way affiliated with the organization known as the Foot Clan?" he asked suddenly, as if hoping to catch them off guard. "Or with the current rat infestation?"

"Far from it" said Donatello.

Leonardo decided to throw all caution to the wind. "The Foot are our enemies. They're holding some friends of ours hostage, and if we don't do something... Look, you have to let us go. Our friends are counting on us!"

"These friends of yours... More Turtles? Just how many of you are there out there...?"

"No, it's not _like_ that. There are four of us. What you see is all there is."

"Maybe you should tell him, Leo..." Donatello suggested. "I don't think he's gonna let us go."

"I agree" said Raphael. "We're running out of time. What's more important? Our secrets, or April and Irma's lives?" Chief Sterns brows were raised higher still.

"Our friend April is in trouble" explained Leonardo. "We have to help her."

"And Irma too" said Donatello.

"Uh, I agree too, guys" piped up Michelangelo. "Just saying."

Sterns looked at the a little dubiously. "That wouldn't be... April O'Neil, would it?"

"That's the one" said Raphael, and rattled the bars. "Now, would you let us outta here...?"

"You don't even have to let us out of here" said Leonardo hurriedly. "But please, you have to help our friends..."

"You know," mused Sterns, "This explains a lot..."

"Chief..." came a voice from outside.

"What is it?" Sterns demanded irritably. No answer was forthcoming. Glancing back at the Turtles, annoyed, he pointed at them. "Don't go anywhere!"

As Sterns stalked toward the exit, the Turtles looked round each other. "Nobody say it" warned Raphael.

* * *

"I'm sorry Chief, she insisted on seeing you..."

Sterns ignored his subordinate as he pondered the new arrivals. "Speak of the devil" he muttered.

"Chief... You have to let me see the Turtles..."

"Miss O'Neil, I never thought I'd ever say this, but I'm glad to see you. I'd heard disturbing talk that suggested you were in need of some help..."

"Yeah, well, it's been quite a day..."

"I heard something about kidnapping, but it looks like you went and joined some kind of motorcycle gang... Don't Channel 3 have some kinda dress code…?"

Smiling politely, April had listened with increasing impatience, not interrupting - After all, she did need a favor. "Please, Chief, I know we don't exactly always see eye to eye, but this is important..."

She glanced at Irma, as if looking for her to add her weight to this. Irma was still distracted by the question of the dress code, looking down at her own baggy pullover, sneakers and duffel coat dubiously. No one had said anything...

Realizing everyone was looking at her, she shot back "Very important". _Was that OK...?_

Sterns turned to look at her with a jowly impassivity, then back to April. "Why, Miss O'Neil, I see we're off the record again" he said. "…And you know what _that_ means." He turned on his heel and made to return to the gym.

April stepped forward. "In that case, this an official question, to be reported on air at a later date..." she said urgently-

-"I'll write it down" said Irma, looking round for pen and paper. None were to be found. "Uh... I'll remember it!"-

-"What do you intend to do with the mutant turtles you captured earlier tonight? Have you provided them with legal representation? Have you charged them with any crime?" April fired off the questions rapidly and, catching herself starting to hold out an imaginary microphone toward Sterns, snatched her hand back hoping no one had noticed.

"Official _question_ , huh? That sounded more like three questions. Well, here's my official answer to all of them. _What_ Turtles?" Sterns re-entered the hall, and April tried to catch a glimpse inside as the door closed.

"This isn't over!" she assured him.

_"Sorry, lady, but you wanted to talk to him and you just did. Let's get you two outta here, OK...?"_

With a final glare at the closed door, April stormed back along the corridor with Irma running along behind her.

* * *

"Where were we?" asked Sterns casually as he walked back over to the Turtles. He was, however, fooling nobody.

"Don't let the lack of ears fool you, Chief" said Leonardo. "We got pretty good hearing."

Sterns shrugged. "So, you know. Your friends are safe. That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"With what's out there right now, no one is safe" Leonardo assured him earnestly.

* * *

"Careful...!" urged Dr Pearson as the large metal keg was lifted carefully onto the trolley. She turned to the Rat King, who was watching intently. "Are you sure we need this much for just an initial test...? A thimble full would be-"

"I thought we agreed, Doctor Pearson, that questions were"- He broke off, and just stared.

It seemed to happen in slow-motion. No one was able to stop it. The keg slipped out of the hands of one of the technicians, and rolled off the trolley. It fell three and a half feet, no more than that. That was enough. The fragile nozzle on top split open. The faintly green liquid inside leaked onto the floor. It spread.

"Dammit!" Dr Pearson stepped away from the liquid and urged the others to do the same. They all did. Everyone kept a safe distance from the untested liquid suspension-

-The untested liquid suspension of mutagenic gel-

-Except one. The Rat King was just a little too slow to respond, and failed to make sure that all of his rats got out of the way in time. One was caught in the path of the liquid. The rat April had named Whiskers.  
It squealed shrilly. It thrashed around. It spasmed uncontrollably. It grew. It grew some more.

As the mutation happened before their eyes, Doctor Pearson and the technicians gaped. One of the mercenaries came hurrying in, gun raised and for some reason Bryan found himself pushing the gun up to point harmlessly at the ceiling.

Whiskers stopped growing. He got to his feet and turned to face them. On two legs. With his two fully-developed arms he reached up to touch his snout. Fingers curled around his opposable thumb. He stared at the Rat King in what could be an accusing way.

Doctor Pearson was the first to speak. "What have you done…? Um... What have I done…?"

* * *

 **Next:** Dr Pearson considers regicide, Todd fails to impress and it never rains but it pours...


	17. Pipe Down

"Um, Mister Hynten..." Dr Pearson adjusted her glasses and shifted position from foot to foot. "Can I just say, I'm not going to put my name to this unless these problems can be ironed out...?"

Technicians in protective gear had by now righted the keg and were securing the nozzle. As Whiskers lurched forward and then steadied on his feet, the Rat King moved forward to intercept the now-bipedal rat, careful not to let any of the liquid touch him. Brief exposure to the original ooze had made him the most powerful Hyn'tnn incarnate yet - the effect this new concentrated mutagen might have was unpredictable enough to make him wary.

As he grappled with his creation, he wasn't quite prepared for the creature's enormous strength! Whiskers lifted the Rat King off his feet and slammed him against the wall. The two of them continued to grapple, physical power almost matched.

 _Obey!_ The Rat King sent the simple command across the long-established mental link with his minion. Whiskers, however, was not the simple creature he had been.

_Hi!_

A simple response, so simple it took the Rat King completely by surprise and put him off balance. Then he realized the voice that replied was a familiar one...

( _April froze, wide-eyed._

_To her alarm, the rat came closer. She instinctively tried to lean forward to keep it in view, and was painfully reminded of the loops of rope holding her pinned to the chair. She heard its light footfall behind her and felt it run underneath. It paused to investigate the rope binding her ankles, and appeared again in front of her._

_"Mmmff..." Uncertainly, she offered the rat a tape-muffled greeting. It seemed only polite..._ )

The Rat King stared into the shiny black eyes of the rat. He had not even realized that this was the rat he had sent to spy on the Foot Clan, and would not have considered it important even if he had. Was this creature... remembering?

( _"What are you doing, Whiskers?" The thought crossed the human's mind and was immediately projected into the Rat King's. That of the rat, too._

_Whiskers...? For the rat, a name was a strange concept. Why the human would want to grant him one was a mystery. At least she seemed well-disposed toward him, unlike many of these human creatures he spent so much time observing for his master._

_Independently of his master, Whiskers – yes, he liked that – rose up on his rear legs to get a better look at her. That seemed to surprise the human, and with a creak of protest from the chair she tried to lean forward a little despite the restraints. The shiny silver material stuck over her mouth prevented the human from communicating with her own kind, but speech made no sense to Whiskers anyway. Her projected thoughts, however, were totally clear._ )

"Hi. I know it's a really, really long shot, but I don't suppose you're some kind of psychic rat who likes to gnaw through rope, are you?" What the Rat King meant by the phrase he had just muttered was anybody's guess...

"What the hell is going on here?" Dr Pearson asked that question of the mercenary captain, and got a shrug. She asked it of Bryan, and got not even a shrug.

Bryan had quite enough going on without having to answer her questions. The voice was back. Or maybe voice was the wrong word now. Bryan couldn't so much hear the old Japanese man now, as feel his consciousness. His intellect, his integrity. His _goodness_. It told him what he kind of already knew. This was wrong. This had to be stopped.

How?

There, the voice wasn't so helpful. He could tell Bryan what he had to do, but not how to do it. That just wasn't good enough!

Dr Pearson had reached her limit. Grabbing a gun from a mercenary's holster, she pointed it at the Rat King. "All right, Mr so-called Hynten! I get some answers now, or I shoot! Just what have you been doing with my work…?!"

The Rat King ignored her. He was engaged in a struggle on both the physical plane and a mental one, and now he had traced where this sense of individuality had come from he could feel his wayward servant's defenses starting to-

-The shot was very loud in the confined space, and Bryan involuntarily brought his hands up to shield his ears. Dr Pearson stared at the gun, as if she couldn't believe what she had just done. Had she hit him? Had she even meant to fire? Even _she_ didn't know for sure.

For Whiskers the gunshot was a wake-up call. He threw off his distracted master - former master - and erupted across the room with the others making way for him. They weren't messing with _that_! He careered down the corridor outside till he got out to a walkway overlooking the river.

In the lab, the others heard the splash. The Rat King looked up at Dr Pearson.

"Uh... Mr Hynten... I'm, uh..." She searched for the right words. _Sorry I almost shot you?_ Or was he hit? It was difficult to tell...

"You let him escape." It was a statement, not an angry accusation, but even so Dr Pearson felt a little colder.

"I... Uh..."

Without warning, the Rat King was suddenly only inches away from her. Dr Pearson was grabbed by the throat and lifted off the ground. Her legs kicked frantically. Then he let her go. By throwing her through the window.

Dr Pearson's body smashed through the glass and fell toward the river thirty feet or so below. This time the splash was a faint one.

The mercenary captain responded on instinct. His gun was in his hand, but before he could do anything the Rat King had twisted it out of his grip and thrown it after Dr Pearson. The captain threw up his hands and stepped back.

The Rat King's lip was curled, and he was breathing audibly. Then his anger seemed to pass, and a look of sadness and regret passed over his face. Moving over to the now-repaired keg of mutagen, he lifted it and tucked it under his arm. Without another word, he left the lab.

Something made Bryan look at the floor where the Rat King had just walked, and saw a few tell-tale drops of red.

* * *

"Step on it, Kevin! Breaking news won't wait for us!" urged Jim McNaughton from the passenger seat of the Channel 3 outside broadcast van, and if he caught the slight rolling of the eyes from his driver and assistant he didn't let on.

By the end of their velocitous dash halfway across the city he regretted his words. _Who cares if we miss the story, so long as we get there in one piece?_

Arrival at last. This was where the latest reports said the action was. Jim climbed down from the cab and took in their surroundings.

They were at the edge of Holland Square, one of New York's oldest gathering places. Not one of its most prestigious areas any more, but not exactly a dump either. Jim had till now never had occasion to come to Holland Square. Clearly, though, the rats had found a reason.

Rats. Lots of them. Milling around Holland Square like... Jim searched for an adjective, and found his limited capacities deserting him in the sight of this horde. He had had no idea he was scared of rats, till tonight.

A small crowd was gathered around the perimeter of the square and Jim fought his own instinct to run, shoving his way to the front instead. He had a job to do.

* * *

Why were they here…? More practical than Jim, April and Irma found themselves asking that question more than any other. Why Holland Square…? What did it have to attract the rats, or their master? April had explained what she knew of the Rat King to Irma, and it was an indicator of how strange Irma's life had become that she had believed every word without question.

"Hey, look over there..." Irma had spotted the Channel 3 van.

"Yeah..." April was torn. Getting involved in reporting on these events might not be the best way to help the Turtles. She noticed Irma raise her hand to wave when she spotted Jim, and stopped her. "Hey, wait... Let me think..."

"Sorry."

"Probably best to stay away from them for now, Irma. I hate going AWOL, but it might make it tricky to help the guys..."

"What if they see you...?"

"You're right. I need a disguise..." April laughed. "If only I hadn't lost my"- Her attention was suddenly grabbed by something else. -"Hey..."

April walked purposefully along the perimeter of the crowd, those bold enough not to be driven off by the rats. Irma scampered behind her, with a definite sense that she would be spending a lot of time doing that from now on.

One onlooker was perched on the transport that had brought him there - A motorcycle, more specifically a Honda. More specifically, April was sure, _Casey's_ pawned Honda. Under his arm, this man held a crash helmet. More specifically, and April _really_ was feeling like being specific about all this, _her_ helmet.

"Hey... What's the idea...?" April grabbed the man's shoulder and turned him round, and was surprised to see... Not _exactly_ a man. Not as such.

What was this _kid_ doing with her bike?

Todd gaped at her. Clearly, he was having trouble coming to terms with the big city. The lights, the crowds, the marauding horde of rats... and now a seriously hot chick coming out of nowhere and actually _talking to him_... "Hey... How's it goin'?" he asked casually, affecting a nonchalant attitude, and inwardly cringed. _Yeah... cool... Very cool._

"Hi…" April replied automatically. "Uh, where did you get this bike...?"

"I, uh, found it. Outside an old factory"-

-"Lakeside, upstate," April finished for him, nodding. "Well, uh, _thank you_ , but you happen to have found the rightful owner... OK, rightful caretaker... Uh, let's not get into that, huh? I'm gonna need it back." She plucked the helmet from his hands and, with a cautious glance in the direction of the Channel 3 van, put it on. Todd thought idly that it kind of suited her - it went pretty well with the leather jacket and pants...

 _Oh yeah..._ He made a belated connection.

"Uh..." Todd felt the whole situation slipping away from him, and tried to make sure she would at least remember he was still here. "How am I gonna get home...? You know... Once I find them..."

April lifted the visor. "Get home...? Oh yeah, I suppose... Look, don't worry about that, OK? I'll make sure... Uh... Find who?"

"This is gonna sound really strange" Todd ventured, "but do you know a guy called Leonardo?"

* * *

"Leo...?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Master Splinter is really gone?"

Leonardo squinted through two sets of steel bars to see Michelangelo's face. He thought carefully about his answer. To his surprise, it wasn't the answer he had assumed he would give.

"I don't know."

"We saw him fall." In his cage, Raphael was facing away from them.

"Ah, but did you see him land?" Donatello inquired, standing up.

"You weren't there, Donny." Turning his head briefly, Raphael seemed to be about to add something to that, but in the end waved his hand dismissively and turned away again.

"You're right. I wasn't." Donatello leaned forward, letting the bars take his weight. "But I know what I think."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And what do you think, Donny?" Leonardo asked. Not with any side, but as an honest question.

"I think he's seen too much, been through too much, to just stop like that. If he's gone, it should feel different. Like, the world should have skipped for a moment. Glitched. But it carried right on as if nothing had happened."

"That sounds kind of crazy, Donny" Leonardo commented, but not unkindly.

Donatello smiled faintly. "I know."

"So, Leo…?"

"What, Mikey?"

"Do you think he's gone?"

Leonardo considered again. This time his answer was even more surprising. "No."

* * *

Why here? That question was occupying April's mind. Why had the rats congregated in Holland Square? What was special about this place?

She took a breath and started again. OK. What was here? No sites of strategic value if they were planning to take over the city. No military or police installations. No landmarks of cultural value...

Unless you counted the old hotel. One of the oldest buildings in the city...

Leaning on the bike, April considered Holland Square hotel for the first time. The building was in the process of being refitted, and she could see, right now, a few levels up, one floor was undergoing renovation, or it had been till the evacuation a couple of hours before. Some panes of glass were missing, allowing a pipe to emerge for the guys inside to dump refuse into the waiting rubbish skip on the ground. Except, the skip wasn't directly under the pipe any more. It had been shifted to the side.

Pipe.

The rats milled around the square. They had established a circular patrol pattern, moving round rapidly so that all of them at some point passed under that pipe. April's eyes shot back up to the floor where the pipe originated.

_Oh no..._

* * *

"There's something down here with us..."

Freddy had dismissed that particular concern the first time he had heard it, but now he was starting to take it seriously. He, Matt and a half-dozen other Foot ninja were picking their way carefully along the sewer tunnel, and from the sounds up ahead someone else was coming toward them at quite a rate. Or was it more than one?

Freddy watched, fascinated, as the creature's shape resolved. A giant rat, the size of a very big dog, or a small bear, scampering along on all fours. As it saw them, however, it stood up on its rear legs. Like a man.

* * *

It occurred to Todd that in his description of Leonardo and his brothers he had forgotten to tell April they were giant Turtles. She still seemed to get the gist of it anyway, though...

She came to a decision and, to his surprise, she took the helmet off again and handed it back to him. "Uh... Todd, you take that back for now... Irma, look up there. The hotel, that pipe sticking out..."

"Pipe…?"

"Yeah."

"I... Uh..."

"Up there, Irma. There... There... I won't point at it, but up there..."

"I don't know, April, I think I'd call that a chute rather than a pipe..."

"Well, I'm calling it a pipe, OK...?"

Irma looked at the pipe - or chute - and the milling rats below. She visibly went pale. "Oh no."

"Right."

"What is it...?" Todd wasn't seeing it.

"Irma, explain it to Todd, would ya? I gotta go up there."

"Alone? No, I'm coming with you..."

"Just trust me, OK... I think I know who's gonna be up there... We kinda got a rapport." April didn't even look convinced by her own argument, but she wasn't going to be talked out of it. "Maybe he'll listen to me... Maybe, uh, I can just slow him down a little. I don't know... " She stepped forward, and turned to face them. "You two, wait here" she said decisively, and turned back to the building.

The lion's den - _well, the rat's den_ \- waited. Why did April have a feeling she was going to regret this?

* * *

"Don't get too close" Matt warned. Freddy ignored him. He stepped toward the giant rat, fascinated.

"This is incredible..."

"It's just like those crazy things... Razor and Toker..."

"No, it isn't, look at it. This is very different..."

Freddy reached out toward Whiskers but stopped before actually making contact. His expression carefully benign. Could this thing even interpret human expressions…?

Whiskers shrank inward a little, but he didn't retreat.

"See…?" Freddy said in a soothing voice. "It knows we mean no harm." As a ninja snorted at that assertion, he shot a dangerous glance at the man. "Don't you?" he asked Whiskers.

The Rat moved his head forward toward Freddy, and as the others raised their weapons nervously Freddy held up his hand to stay them. Whiskers sniffed the air, cautiously at first then more intently.

Then, unexpectedly, he turned to Matt.

He reached out with his... Freddy supposed it was a hand. When no one tried to stop him, Whiskers reached under Matt's tunic and pulled out an object. A black leather glove.

"So that's what you could smell..." Freddy mused under his breath. He took the glove from Whiskers' hand gently.

"I forgot I still had that" said Matt. Freddy's raised hand silenced him.

"Where…?" It spoke!

Whiskers sniffed the air again, and his head turned. He sniffed once more, and seemed to pick up something of interest. " _What are you doing, Whiskers...?_ " pondered the rat, seemingly reciting something from memory.

"That's April's glove" Freddy told him. "You've seen her...?"

"Aay-Pril..." Whiskers repeated, as if weighing the possible answers to that. "Kind..."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"Gave Whiskers name."

Freddy's eyebrows rose slightly, but other than that he gave no sign this perturbed him. "Well, like I say, that's her glove..."

"April's... glove..."

"Yeah, that's right. I think we should get it back to her right away... Don't you...?"

Whiskers thought about that, and it looked like it made sense to his developing sense of right and wrong.

"Do you know where she is…?" Freddy had a feeling this was going to work. Matt shook his head and sighed.

"Find April... Glove..." The rat seemed to be mulling it over. Finally, he looked at Freddy and something in its expression told the Foot leader that, crazy at it was, this was actually going to work.

Whiskers never verbally agreed, but Freddy took it as a sign when he turned and hurried away down the tunnel. He turned to the others and smiled.

"Follow that rat..."

* * *

Chief Sterns stood in the calm center of a raging whirlpool of activity. The Crisis Control room was full of police officers and technicians, yelling into phones, blocking out the noise to hear incoming calls, furiously scribbling down reports. Demanding reports from the field. Demanding information. Information was supposed to come in here and decisions were supposed to come out. That's how it worked.

That's how it was supposed to work.

"Chief - They're saying it's more of them than before, there's at least five hundred..."

" _They're just milling around..._ "

"But are they actually doing anything...? I think we should..."

" _Chief...?_ "

"More like a thousand...!"

"We got a report here..."

" _Holland Square...?_ "

"We sent somebody already. Have you tried…?"

"Chief…?"

" _Holland Square, yeah..._ "

"Rats…? Yeah... I'd noticed..."

"Holland Square..."

"Chief…? We got the Mayor on the line..."

Sterns turned and left the room. Everyone else there looked at each other.

Could he do that?

* * *

The Turtles looked up as someone came in through the doors, and saw Sterns standing there.

"Don't make me regret this..." he said. He turned to the zoologist, who was groggily stumbling to his feet. "Get them outta there!"

* * *

Inside, the hotel was deserted. April took the stairs - it wasn't that far up, and the elevator offered far more possibilities for a trap. She still didn't know what she expected to achieve, but knowing what was at stake here she had to try.

* * *

A cold wind whistled through the gap where the window had been removed, and the Rat King shivered. That surprised him. He had never felt particularly vulnerable to extremes of temperature before. The reason why occurred to him, and he shivered again. This time not with the cold.

Despite the pressure of time, he had taken the opportunity to don the familiar rags and bandages. This Hyn'tnn incarnate felt more at ease this way. More... ready.

He could sense her approach long before she got there, and used the time to haul the keg of mutagen into place. It seemed far heavier now than it had when he set out from the laboratory. He eyed the couple of dozen rats who had accompanied him with a faintly resentful air. They had not been much help. A laborious task like that certainly displayed their limitations.

That would soon change.

April cautiously peered around the corner before she came in. "Uh, hi..." was her opening gambit. The rats scampered across the floor toward her, stopping a few feet short. She gingerly reached out a hand in their direction, as if to pet one of them, but quickly thought better of it. "Hi there, guys..." she greeted them uncertainly.

The Rat King looked round briefly. "Hi," he said casually.

"Hi" she said again, and then laughed at the absurd self-consciousness of it, before throwing her hands wide and clasping them in front of her, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot. One of them better start start saying something other than _Hi_.

"Uh, how'ya been?"

"Fine" he said, still engaged in preparing the keg of mutagen. "Don't worry, the rats won't harm you unless I will it." His voice was gentle, kindly even, but April recognized the implied threat.

"Uh, are you sure you want to do that?" she asked, eyeing the keg of mutagen, her apparent casualness fooling no one.

"Yes, quite sure."

"OK... I couldn't talk you out of it, could I…?"

"I doubt it."

"Right. I'm not, uh, getting in the way here?"

"Not at all. Your presence is entirely pleasant."

"OK..." Eyeing the rats carefully, April tried moving forward, but that seemed to make them mad. She really didn't want to do that, but if it came to it...

"So, uh, Freddy and company... The Foot Clan..." He turned around to face her, leaving the keg on the floor right next to the pipe. If she could even distract him for a short time, maybe someone else could pick up the slack... "You had some kinda deal with Freddy. What was that about?" Change the subject. A perfectly valid tactic...

"Fetching and carrying, at a critical point in my plans" he sort of explained. "Freddy thought of himself as far more important than he actually was. You might call him a non-entity."

"Oooohhh... _I hear ya_..." she said, nodding.

"I'm sorry. Was I not audible before?"

April smiled. "You're strange, you know that? And I don't mean just because you want to take over the city with an army of rats. Believe me, I'm not all that judgmental."

"Freddy is still troublesome" he continued. "But I do not kill unless there is a direct threat to my goals." Remembering Doctor Pearson, he felt a twinge of guilt. "At least, I try to avoid it..."

"Sure you couldn't make an exception in his case…? I don't mean that... Yes I do..."

"He is coming here." The Rat King dropped that news casually.

Realizing he meant Freddy, April shifted nervously. "Uh... _Here_ here? _Right_ here? _Here_ where we are, _here_...?"

"Yes. But he will be too late to stop me."

"Oh, _good_..." she commented sarcastically, looking around the room. "That's definitely what I was worried about, _yeah_..."

"I must correct you."

"Oh…" She turned back to face him. "OK. What about?"

"The goal is not to control this city. In the end, the dominion of the rat will extend to the entire world."

"Uh... Right." That was a lot to take in. " _Gotta say_ , and I'm not getting at 'ya', I'm, uh, not totally sold on that being, you know, a good idea..."

"You want to avoid the Foot?" he cut in.

"Yeah... Yeah, of course" she replied, flustered. "I don't exactly want to be their prisoner again. That was a whole world of _not_ fun."

"Yes." He considered that. "Understandable. In that case, I am sorry." It sounded like he meant it.

"Ooohhh... kaaayyy..." she said warily. "Sorry for what…?"

He swung round. At his silent command, the force of rats blocked April's way back, and then forced her into a corner. There they stayed, blocking her escape. "For keeping you here" he explained. "For returning you to the Foot Clan."

"What…?" April couldn't believe what she had just heard. "Why...?!" Realizing she would get no answer, she looked round desperately for some means of escape.

The Rat King reached under the layers of bandages and rags. His hand came away red. He looked at it blankly.

The time was near...

Keeping a wary eye on the rats, April started feeling the wall behind her. As a piece of it crumbled away she scattered the debris over them and tried to run for it. The rats reformed and stopped her, driving her back into the corner.

She recovered her balance only with difficulty, throwing her hands up in the air, shoulders hunched and eyes tight shut, trying to assure the rats she was done for now and stop them swarming her. The rats brushed against her feet before retreating again, and this time they granted her a _much_ smaller space to stand in.

April opened her eyes again, surprised to find she was still all right. _Yeah_ , she was fine... Till this guy gave her back to the Foot...! She shouted an appeal to the Rat King with more desperation than actual hope.

"Why can't you just let me go...?!"

* * *

Bryan walked and walked. He didn't know how far. He didn't know how long. Finding himself in a part of the city he didn't know, he eyed the exotic shops with their bright neon signs and murky interiors. An occasional passer-by bowed to him, and he found himself bowing back.

He stopped. The boy was looking at him funny. The young Japanese boy, in his early teens, blocked Bryan's way.

"Uh, I don't think I have any money..." Bryan muttered.

"What?" The boy looked askance at him. "I'm not trying to mug you." He looked dubious for a moment. "Look up."

Bryan looked up. The shop sign above him was arranged around a neon representation of some kind of animal. A rat. The boy studied his reaction, and after a moment seemed satisfied.

"OK. It's you. Come with me."

What else could he do? Bryan followed.

* * *

Whiskers led Freddy, Matt and the other Foot ninja to the bottom of a ladder, and clawed briefly at the bottom rungs.

"You've found her?" Freddy dashed forward, and started climbing the ladder. At the top, he pushed at the cover. Annoyed when it barely shifted, he climbed down and barked "You two... Up there and get that cover off. Make it quick."

Turning to Whiskers, he smiled. "Well done, Whiskers. Looks like we'll soon get April's glove back to her. I can just picture her face when she sees us..."

The cover lifted, and two Foot ninja emerged into the cellar of the Holland Square hotel. Dimly-lit, silent. Dust that had lain undisturbed for a while swirled around with the sudden movement of air.

Freddy was the next to come up, then Matt, then Whiskers, squeezing through with difficulty, easily forgetting his new bulk, and the remaining ninja followed. Freddy took stock of their surroundings, and noticed only one other exit at the top of some stairs.

"OK... Where are we" he pondered.

"Holland Square hotel, it says here..." said Matt. Freddy grinned – he knew there was a reason he kept Matt around.

Turning, he quietly addressed the two ninja who had been first into the cellar. "You two – back into the tunnels. Close it up behind you and get back to the van. Bring it round to the back of the hotel. The alley. Back, not front. OK? You got that? Go do it."

Matt eyed Freddy skeptically. "And us?"

"She's here? In this building?" Freddy asked Whiskers. The rat nodded. Then started blinking rapidly. "What's wrong?" he demanded, his manner suddenly brusque, while unnoticed, he discarded the glove on the floor. It had served its purpose.

"I..." Whiskers doubled over and clutched his head. "He is... He is..."

"He...?"

"He is found..." said Whiskers unhelpfully. "He is returning..."

"OK." Freddy snapped his fingers and led the way up the stairs and into the main floor of the hotel. The other ninja followed, leaving the distracted Whiskers in the cellar. "Close the door! See if you can find something to block it!" he demanded.

"What's wrong? Getting tired of our new recruit?" Matt asked dryly.

"Had to get rid of him somehow. That was a stroke of luck, my friend. Above all else, a leader should be lucky."

"What now?"

"Now...? We get our hostage back and proceed with the plan."

"That's... Master Tatsu's plan…?"

" _Tatsu's_ plan... With a few alterations."

* * *

Penned in by the rats, April could do nothing to stop the Rat King. He made one last effort, and it seemed to be costing him a lot, lifting the keg of mutagen up to the end of the refuse pipe.

It poured.

* * *

By the time Bryan and the boy reached the top of the stairs, Bryan was out of breath. He had let the exercise slide of late, in favor of his project. His two projects, he supposed, even if one of them had been pursued under hypnosis.

"Here we are" said the boy. "Take off your jacket if you want, you might be here a while."

"Why am I here?" Bryan asked. He peered at the other inhabitants of the small tenement, an elderly couple. They came forward to get a better look at him.

"This is him, Grandma."

The old woman seemed to accept this. The old man poked Bryan with his walking stick, and harrumphed.

They went through to another room, and beckoned Bryan after them. Once he saw what was there, he understood. Sort of.

A figure lay on the bed, covers drawn up around him. Silent. Dead? No, not dead. Not quite. The chest rose and fell almost imperceptibly. "Kappa" said the old man.

It was Splinter.

* * *

 **Next:** The rats get high, Donatello orders dessert and... The King is dead - Long live the King...


	18. Ratsurrection

**2 minutes earlier...**

Todd sat on the bike, helmet on, fidgeting impatiently. Irma hurried over, laden with a number of objects begged, borrowed or stolen.

"We can't leave it much longer..." Todd warned.

"I know, I know, I know..." Irma draped a large sheet around him and wrapped it as securely as she could while leaving his arms free. "But you can't get so much as a drop of that stuff on you..."

She experienced a giddy moment of self-awareness, and a surge of panic at the realization of what she was doing. Namely, assisting a minor to do something extremely dangerous in possession of a vehicle he wasn't even supposed to drive! "Todd, are you sure about this…? I don't think this is a good idea..." she said nervously.

"I can do this!" he said, determined. "Look, we're the only ones out here who even know what's going on. We have to try..." He looked round, irritated, as they were joined by several other people. Irma noticed them only when it was too late, and realized with a start it was Jim McNaughton and his crew from Channel 3. Broadcasting live.

"So, what have we here, huh...?" he asked, laughing-voiced. "Well, young man, I hope you're not going to perform any stunts here tonight. Don't go jumping over any rats. Seriously, though, what's this about...? I'll ask your mom here..."

Irma was becoming increasingly annoyed as he spoke, and that just about did it. His mom? _I'm only twenty-three!_ Plus, they'd met at Channel 3 and now he didn't even recognize her! Why, that-! All she ended up saying was "Excuse me...? I'm not his mother…!"

"Aunt, whatever..." Jim replied, only half-listening. "What's this all about…?"

"Now or never...!" interrupted Todd, revving up the bike's engine. He had been watching the space where there used to be a window above, and seen the figure looming up. He shifted inside the hastily-donned makeshift cape, adjusted the helmet one last time and judged the distance across the square carefully...

Looking sidelong at them, bemused, Jim turned to go and addressed the camera again. "Well, folks, as we leave this young would-be Evel Knievel to do whatever he's gotta do, you have to wonder where our city's police are at this moment. Makes you wonder, indeed..." Jim looked back at the rat-infested square. "Like, maybe they know something we don't..."

Irma stood back and put her hands over her face, too terrified to look, as Todd set off and accelerated across the square toward the foot of the pipe. As he hoped they would the rats scattered from his path, self-preservation overriding the Rat King's control, however briefly...

…Todd turned the bike as he approached the wall of the building, twisting gradually sideways and jumping off right before impact...

…The bike hit the wall and broke apart, leaking fuel, just as the first drops of mutagen issued from above. No rats were there to receive it, but some of the liquid got on Todd's protective gear as he crawled urgently away. He saw the rats starting to come back and speeded up as much as his injured knee would allow. After all that, was this even going to work...?

The bike caught fire and a few seconds later it exploded, damaging the bottom of the pipe and driving away the rats. Todd threw off the protective gear and quickly limped the last few paces to safety helped by Irma.

"We did it!" he announced triumphantly. "...Uh, I hope April's not too angry about the bike."

* * *

April was pacing back and forth a few steps, using what little freedom she had, and looked up, startled, at the sound of the explosion. "What was that...?!"

The Rat King was facing out, away from her, but she saw his shoulders slump a little.

* * *

The Turtles got some funny looks as Chief Sterns led the way into the Crisis Control Room. Headphones and mics were set aside, mouths hung open, conversations were interrupted. Silence reigned.

"Get on with what you're doing" Sterns commanded irritably. "Nothing to see here!"

"Well, Raph..." Leonardo patted his brother on the shoulder. "Is it everything you hoped...?"

"What?"

"Here we are, out of the sewer and among people."

"And him." Raphael pointed to Sterns, and the Chief looked up at him suspiciously.

"What...?" Sterns demanded, and Leonardo and Raphael enjoyed their private joke.

Donatello had rushed to the central desk. "Ooh, I've always wanted to get a look at this close up..." He picked up the headset. "May I..?" Sterns nodded, and Donatello listened in.

"I don't know exactly what you four can do about this..." Sterns said to Leonardo, "But I have a feeling this sort of crisis isn't totally new to you. Hell, I may not be in a job tomorrow... There might not be a New York tomorrow if this is as bad as you say it is..."

"It's bad" said Leonardo. He got distracted by Michelangelo perching on the desk of an attractive young female police officer and making her laugh by juggling some stationery. Turning his attention back to Sterns, he sighed.

"What you got, Chief, and I swear to you I'm not making this up, is a supernatural being who can control the minds of all rodents. We think he might have got access to the ooze that made us the way we are, so imagine if you want to a whole army of mutant ninja rats..." Leonardo watched Sterns' face throughout this, but the Chief kept his expression neutral.

"If anybody but a giant mutant turtle had told me that, I'd be having him committed right about now..." It was his turn to sigh. "Well, I'm not about to let this city fall on _my watch_. What do you need…?" Leonardo and Raphael glanced at each other, as Michelangelo came over to join them, casually waving goodbye to his new friend.

"OK, Chief" said Donatello, putting down the headset. "I got an idea, but I'm gonna need _carte blanche_..."

"I don't know if this is the right time to start thinking about dessert, Don" said Michelangelo. "But if we are, could I order some pizza first…?"

* * *

After putting the keg of mutagen back on the floor, the Rat King had made his way with difficulty over to a wall and leaned against it for support. Several minutes later, he was still there.

April was sitting on the ground despondently, the rats still keeping her in the corner. She looked up at the Rat King, who looked even worse than before.

"You OK?"

It took a visible effort for him to turn. "Now, there is a question..."

"Kind of my specialty..." April stood up, brushing dust and fragments of wall plaster off her pants. "What happened to your mutant army…? Did the plan work…?"

"It seems not."

"Yeah... " she mused. "Hey - If your plan has failed, I suppose you might as well, y'know, let me go...?" That was said with an affected casualness, like the possibility had just occurred to her and it was, _um_ , no big deal or anything...

He shook his head, despite the pain it obviously caused him. "Oh, _come on_...!" she said with a more genuine note of desperation. "How does giving me back to the Foot help anything...? Least of all, me...?!"

"I have no wish to kill you, and yet I cannot risk your jeopardizing my cause... You give me... little choice..."

"Yeah, right…" Turning away, April really wished she could come up with a convincing counter-argument. Basically, anything but wait here and be handed back to the Foot. _Handed_ back to the Foot. The Turtles could make a joke out of that, probably, but she didn't feel much like joking.

_Breathe slow, O'Neil… Calm…_

"Well, I escaped once already..." she pointed out sullenly.

"I'm sure they will hold you more securely this time."

 _Yeah, I'm sure too_... That colony of butterflies in her stomach was back. April turned to face him again.

"Look, no offense, but your cause..." She stopped, and chose a different tack. "...You know, you don't look so good. And that's not an insult, it's an observation." His breathing was coming in ragged gasps, and she wasn't even sure he was still listening.

"Seriously. Lemme get you to hospital..." she said hopefully.

He gave the ghost of a smile. "You don't understand..."

"Don't understand…? Yeah, you probably got that right. Go ahead and explain if you want...!"

His eyes flickered and he toppled over to the floor and lay there motionless. "Uh... You OK there…?" April moved from side to side and stood on tiptoes to get a better look, but there wasn't much she could do trapped in the corner. "Well, that's great... Just great!" She looked down at the rats. "If you could just let me out, I might be able to help!"

They stayed where they were.

"No, didn't think so..." She leaned against the wall, arms folded. "Great going, guys!"

* * *

Freddy led the way cautiously along the hotel corridor, alert, ready to fight at any moment. As he turned a corner he found himself face to face with Matt and the rest of the other party. "OK. Floor checked" Freddy said brusquely. "Anything?" Matt shook his head.

"Up we go..."

* * *

For a while the rats stayed guarding April. Gradually, though, they started to wonder why they were doing that, and without the controlling animus they had no answer. They drifted off, individually scampering around investigating their surroundings.

Cautiously, April stepped out of the corner. She was free. A quick glance back at the exit, and then down at the Rat King's body. He was still breathing.

"Listen, uh, I'll send some help. OK…?" Her eyes darted back to the exit. "Uh, I gotta go. If the Foot are around somewhere, I really don't wanna be here when they arrive..."

The Rat King's eyes closed, and for a moment April thought that might be it. She glanced back again, and reluctantly moved closer to him, crouching down. "Ooooohhh... Why do I get myself into these things…?"

She saw blood seeping out from under his body. "Oh _God_..." He was a little too heavy for her to move, and even then, moving him might make things worse...

A hand reached up and gripped hers convulsively, and held on. April tried to pull away, but after a moment she relented. This was it for the Rat King, or so it seemed, and she couldn't bring herself to leave him there alone.

* * *

A swift Turtle conference – it was funny how quickly that was catching on – decided their next move. Once again Donatello would go solo, and he was going to have a busy night ahead of him. The others would head straight over to Holland Square through the sewers.

"Everybody good...?" asked Leonardo. "OK, let's go!"

* * *

April felt the grip of the Rat King around her hand slacken, and gently set the hand down onto his chest. The bandages were looser around the face now, and she could see him clearly. Thinning dark hair, deep creases. A kind-looking face in repose. A regular guy. Not a monster. She sat there by the body for a moment, unexpectedly saddened.

If she hadn't been so affected, April might have noticed the shadows move around a little more than before. She did hear the scuffing of a boot on the floor and, eyes widening, realized too late that she was no longer alone.

She looked round and saw Freddy's smirking face just a few feet away. "Were you very close?" he asked mockingly.

April flinched as she was hauled to her feet by two Foot ninja, who immediately started tying her hands. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me...!" she protested unhappily.

Freddy got up and smiled coldly. "You have to admit, that was funny?" he asked lightly.

"Why don't you go find yourself a mirror, Freddy? It's the only- Ow…! It's the only... appreciative audience you'll ever get!" Her gaze drifted over, betraying the concern uppermost on her mind, as one of the ninja cautiously picked up the abandoned keg and glanced inside. He nodded in response to his leader's questioning glance, and Freddy seemed pleased at that as he turned back to April.

"It's funny you should say that. I intend to connect with a very appreciative audience very soon... Yours." Ignoring her _what the hell are you talking about?_ look, he nodded toward the exit and with a Foot ninja gripping each arm April was bustled away.

* * *

The door into the stairwell had a little window in it, and Irma peered timidly through before venturing inside. At the first sign of a Foot ninja on the stairs above, she was glad she had. Shrinking back out of sight, she waited as booted feet squeaked their way down to the same level as her and then began descending the next flight. Risking another glance through, Irma's heart sank at what she saw.

April did her best to give the two ninja holding her as hard a time as possible – wriggling, digging in her heels and generally making them work for every bit of ground covered. She figured she had a reputation for feistiness to uphold. If not, she certainly wanted one.

What did Freddy mean about connecting with her audience…? She threw a concerned look behind her at the ninja carrying the keg of mutagen, and found her attention caught by something else for a moment. Did something catch the light behind the doors leading to the main corridor...? Like a pair of spectacles...?

Above, half-crouching in an agony of indecision, Irma watched helplessly as April and her captors disappeared from sight. She couldn't quite believe she was just watching and doing nothing - but what could she possibly do?

* * *

Bryan had lost count of the cups of tea he had accepted politely from the inhabitants of the apartment. He never strayed very far from the body of the mutant rat in the bed. What did this mean…?

Somehow, he knew this was the source of the voice that had guided him here, though he had no idea how. Yet the rat seemed to be in a state beyond mere sleep. No attempt to wake him had been successful, and the family had simply put their comatose guest to bed and hoped for the best.

The boy had explained some of it. His grandfather had found the kappa lying on the ground unconscious that afternoon, and acting more out of instinct than anything else had swiftly concealed him and sought help to bring him here. They had no idea where he had come from, but firmly believed his well-being had been entrusted to them for a short while. The kappa had woken briefly during the evening, and told them to expect a visitor to the sign of the rat, then he had lapsed into his coma.

Bryan stared at the rat's face for what seemed like hours, hoping some great truth would reveal itself. Something made him believe that waiting for this creature to impart its knowledge was the natural way of things.

_Bryan... The time has come..._

The statement needed to be repeated before Bryan realized it wasn't some kind of auditory hallucination. He leaned forward and, trying not to let the creature know how vaguely ridiculous he felt, tried to project his own thoughts. Before he got anything coherent together, the voice came again.

_I know everything about you, Bryan... There is no need to hide anything from me..._

Uh, everything...? Typical. The fate of the world at stake – Really? Where did that come from? – and he was worried about-

- _There will come a moment where it all depends on you, Bryan. You must be ready..._

There was more. Much more than that. Bryan listened.

* * *

The elevator pinged. The doors opened. There was a moment of silence. The rats erupted from inside. They streamed along the corridor and into the area being renovated, apparently knowing just fine where to go. A pre-proggrammed purpose drove them, an ancient one, and nothing would stop them.

Irma certainly wouldn't, and nor did she have any intention of trying. She tiptoed her way in and stood, petrified, as the rats surged past her. "Ooh, I hate rats...!" she squealed. Then added "No offense…!"

The rats congregated around the prone body of the Rat King and waited a moment. Then, as one, they passed in a wave over his body. Then they sort of pulsed, it was the only word Irma could think of to describe it. A slow rhythmic in and out motion, as if the carpet of rats was one single living, breathing, thing.

Before her horrified gaze, they left the Rat King's body and, again as one, left the area. The sound of their scampering feet on the floor faded into the distance. Far off, she heard the elevator door ping again.

 _Rats can use elevators...?_ Even though it was by no means the strangest aspect of what Irma had just seen, it was the part she just couldn't get past!

* * *

The Turtles – or three of them at least - ran through the sewer tunnels, once again in their element. "It's funny..." Raphael said.

"What?"

"We finally got it so we can go wherever we want up there, and the first thing we do is choose to come back down here."

"Yeah." Leonardo appreciated the irony, but at that moment they reached the foot of the ladder where, unknown to them, Freddy and company had accessed the hotel earlier. "We'll go up here. The hotel is evacuated, so it's OK."

Michelangelo threw himself up the ladder and was soon pushing up against the access cover. "Whoa, guys, this is heavy..."

"Need some help?"

"Nah, I got it." With a final grunt of effort, Michelangelo had pushed the cover up into the cellar and with an agile movement leaped up after it...

 _"OK up there…?"_ Called Leonardo.

"Gimme a sec, guys" Michelangelo replied. "It's dark up here…" He felt something on the floor next to his hand, and picked it up. A leather glove. Why did that…? Of course, _April's_ other glove. How did it…?

Something dived at him from one of the corners, and bowled him over before rolling away again.

Whiskers! Dazed, Michelangelo sat up and saw a flying ball of fur hurtling toward him again. "Guuuuuys...!"

Leonardo and Raphael climbed into the cellar and stopped for a moment, astonished. Not for long, though. Their response to one of them being in trouble was hard-wired, and they threw themselves after Whiskers and the four of them collapsed in a heap of limbs.

With an enormous effort, they wrestled Whiskers into submission and held him down so they could get a good look at him. "What the-?" Raphael was incredulous.

"Anyone else starting to feel a little less special…?" pondered Leonardo.

* * *

Kevin, Jim McNaughton's driver and assistant, was fielding the inevitable complaints about him as he wandered back to the van with the cameraman and sound guy. He felt like he spent half his time doing that.

"Yeah, I know, guys, I know, but the thing is..." He tailed off. As he approached the Channel 3 van, some instinct made him uneasy. Something wasn't right. Hushing the others, he wandered round it once, had a look at the tires and then stood there for a moment.

Shaking his head, he dismissed his qualms. "Sorry guys, I just had a... moment there. I dunno. Don't mind me, OK..?"

The other two gripped the van's rear doors and hauled them open as Kevin made his way to the cab. Light flooded into the interior - and wide dark eyes stared at him in mute appeal - _"Mmmmfff...!"_ \- April's warning, stifled by the large gloved hand clamped over her mouth, came a little too late as Foot ninja sprang forward out of the shadows!

* * *

Jim hurried toward the van, muttering irritably. He had just been to take a leak, and doing that in New York at 3 in the morning was a bit of an adventure to say the least. He had promised the guys he would just be a few minutes, and that must have been at least twenty minutes ago. Then he thought about it, and shrugged. Let 'em wait. He was the talent.

He stopped, astonished. The van was leaving without him! Jim watched as it departed, and anger, confusion and petulance fought for dominion on his broad face. _We'll see about this!_ Looking round, Jim hit upon a solution. He waved his hand in the air. "Taxi...!"

* * *

Bryan Bryant strode through the dark streets, back the way he had come, with a new purpose. He knew where he stood now, and he knew who he was. He was part of a struggle against evil that had been raging since before history itself – and now, finally, whatever the mistakes of the past, he was on the right side.

They were waiting for him, and as he passed they erupted from the alley _en masse_. Bryan spun round as they impacted upon him and rat after rat climbed up his body and engulfed him. Paralyzed in terror, his muffled scream was cut off completely, and the shambling, shaggy mass of fur and tails collapsed, the body within thoroughly cushioned, protected from harm.

Pulsing.

Eventually the rats moved off their victim, and the prone body of Bryan Bryant lay on the ground. One eye snapped open, and quickly closed again. Then both opened together.

Bryan finally had, strictly speaking, what he had always wanted from life. He was no longer alone.

* * *

Splinter woke. This time, properly. The boy was the first to notice, and called his grandparents excitedly. By the time they made it through to the bedroom, their kappa guest had risen from the bed and stood shakily before them.

To their astonishment, Splinter spoke to them. "I... Thank you... I am sorry, but I must... leave you. There is much to do..." As he shakily took his first steps, Splinter grabbed the corner of the bed for support. The boy gestured for him to stay there and ran out of the room.

He came back a minute later, holding something with the reverence due a magic talisman. "Here ya go, Mister Kappa..." he said in a hushed tone. He handed over and Splinter gladly accepted something that gave him both physical and spiritual support. His stick.

Now he was ready. The master ninja was back.

* * *

Bryan Bryant got to his feet and took in his surroundings. It was a lot to get used to. It had been nearly sixteen years since the last time this process had taken place, and it always left the body a little shaky. He needed time to acclimatize. Not too much time, however. The end game approached.

The Rat King smiled at the prospect.

* * *

 **Next:** The Rat King goes shopping, April goes back to work and Whiskers loves being a Turtle...


	19. Broken News

"Uh... Police…? Yeah, that's right... Why'd I have to wait so long...? Look, never mind... I, uh... I got a break-in under me here, my shop... Yeah, I live above... Yeah... Look, does that matter…? The guy's still there. Uh, I don't really care if you're busy, you know that…?

Look – the guy is still here! If you send a car you can catch him! I'm not shouting! I don't dare shout, because like I say... The guy is still here…! Hold...? You gotta be kidding...!"

Beneath the apartment, in the shop, all was suddenly quiet. After ransacking the place for what he needed – or, let's be honest, what he _wanted_ – the Rat King stood in front of a full-length mirror. The coat hung almost to his ankles. The dark glasses were just what he was looking for.

He applied the final touch – the broad-brimmed hat. _Now_ he was ready.

* * *

"Bodacious!" said Michelangelo.

"Audacious!" said Raphael.

"Tenacious!" said Leonardo.

There was a long moment of hesitation. "...Good!" said Whiskers. The three Turtles looked at him.

"...Good... acious…?"

"Needs work..." said Leonardo.

"Yeah, he definitely does, but give the guy a chance, Leo. He's new to all this."

"That's not what I meant, Raph..."

The four of them had arrived in the hotel's lobby and were approaching the exit as Irma and Todd hurried toward them. "Irma!" the Turtles exclaimed. Then "Todd...?!" Surprise after surprise.

"Uh, guys, I..." Irma didn't know how to tell them...

"Well, given that we haven't been spending the last couple 'a hours fighting an army of giant rats"- Leonardo began...

-"Just this guy"- cut in Raphael, pointing toward Whiskers.

-"It looks like things worked out OK" Leonardo finished, as Irma and Todd stared at the Turtles' new friend. "Guys, this is Whiskers. It's a long story. We didn't exactly hit it off _right away_ , but it turned out we got a mutual friend..." He looked round. "Speaking of... Where's April...?"

Irma just stared at him.

* * *

At the edge of the square, Miss McWilliams pressed herself against the wall, speaking out of the corner of her mouth to a figure concealed within the alley. Had she thought about it, she might have reflected that it was a novelty not being the strangest feature of this particular environment right now.

"No... You mustn't come out... Someone will see you... I am perfectly fine, I assure you, Stanley... Whatever was going on here seems to have passed... What's that...?" She peered at the distant figures her companion had brought to her attention. "No, I don't think you should make yourself known, Stanley... Oh calm down, dear, you know your accent gets very thick when you get yourself agitated...

No, I don't think you need to meet them, dear... Those, I think you will find, are only men in costumes."

* * *

Freddy was distinctly pleased with himself. OK, things still hung in the balance, but all in all it was going pretty well. The best thing of all was not only managing to recapture April O'Neil but ensuring she would be instrumental in the Turtles' downfall after all... Some things were meant to be.

Hey... Who was this guy...?

Freddy and his two accompanying Foot ninja had been walking at a brisk pace along the deserted street, not far now from the junkyard. Anyone unwise enough to be out in these early hours had wisely given them a wide berth. The one thing they didn't expect to see when they turned the corner was some tall guy in a long coat and a hat acting as if he had nothing to fear. Strolling up casually and-

-Freddy choked as the hand reached out, gripped his throat and slammed him against the wall. His two attendants took a step back before rushing forward as one- "-Stop them…!" said the Rat King. "Or I snap your neck."

Freddy didn't actually need to tell them anything. They got the message, and stood well back. "So" said Freddy casually, refusing to kow tow. "You a relative of the rat guy…? I note a familial resemblance, know what I'm saying...?"

"I have observed your activities" the Rat King said, giving no indication he had even been listening. "You may continue. It suits me very well..."

"Well... Thanks..." Freddy smirked, but got no further.

"I need to know more detail, however..." the Rat King continued. "If you lie to me or withhold anything I need, I will rip out your heart and hold it in front of your eyes still beating..."

Freddy listened. Then he talked.

* * *

Donatello was hard at work, totally focused and probably at his happiest. It was more than his wildest dreams had ever conjured up - well, maybe not the very _wildest_ ones - a team to do his bidding, unlimited resources at his command and vehicles to get him wherever he needed to go and lots and lots of technology that didn't quite work for him to take apart and put back together again.

So that was how he passed the remaining hours till daylight returned. From a work bench strewn with mechanical parts and intricate circuitry, he occasionally moved over and perused the blueprints and maps strewn on another bench.

 _We're going to consult some experts_ , he had told Irma, before they had been well and truly side-tracked, but now he was consulting those experts and everything they had at their disposal.

What he didn't have much of was time, and what he had was running out...

* * *

Jim McNaughton passed the remainder of the night less happily. His earlier bravado had deserted him when he had realized exactly what he had been following, but by that time it had been too late. When the cab driver had realized it, he had driven off before Jim could climb back inside. In desperation, Jim had found a nook to hide in and huddled there cultivating an agonizing cramp in his leg.

He was hidden on the edge of a vast area of waste ground that had not long ago been the site of several blocks of derelict slum housing. Soon it would be covered with something far more upmarket, but for now the site suited the Foot Clan perfectly. There were several approach roads and, more to the point, several escape routes.

Jim kept to the shadows, but with the sun starting to come up those shadows wouldn't hide his substantial bulk much longer. The Foot ninja would see him if he emerged, and it didn't seem likely on balance that he could outrun any of them.

He could see some of them unloading stuff from the back of the Channel 3 van, _his van_ , as well as a very unhappy April O'Neil. He watched with a smirk on his face, cramp momentarily forgotten, as his rival reporter, her hands tied behind her, was roughly escorted to join the others about a hundred yards from the van.

 _Serves ya right_ , he thought. _I'm a dinosaur, am I...? Well, rumors of my extinction have been greatly exaggerated..._ Jim was pleased with himself for that particular quip, but annoyed there was nobody for him to say it to.

They had left the doors slightly open and unattended. No one was in the cab, or as far as he could tell anywhere near the van. All attention seemed to be focused on his colleague Miss O'Neil... _What else is new?_ he thought bitterly.

So... _Oh, what the hell..._ Jim ran for the van.

Clambering up into the back of the vehicle with some difficulty, Jim made straight for Kevin the driver's jacket where it lay on an open equipment box. "Keys, keys, keys..." he muttered. "Come on, Kevin, I know you got a spare..."

Nothing. Catching a glimpse through the slightly open doors, he saw Foot ninja approaching, and he panicked and jumped out again.

Matt and another of the ninja watched as Jim left the scene. "You want I should get him back here?"

Before Matt could answer April cut in. "No point taking him hostage. They'd pay you _not_ to give him back." Matt smiled, and April saw it. She smiled too.

Annoyed at having momentarily dropped his guard, Matt tersely answered the question. "No." He glanced at the rising sun, then his watch. "It's almost time." He stepped in front of April, almost trying too hard now to be ruthlessly business-like after his brief lapse.

"OK, listen carefully. You're only gonna get told this once, and any mistakes or any attempt to be clever will go very badly for the other prisoners. Clear...?"

"Yes, sir!" she mocked. He could have had a perfect salute too, if her hands hadn't been tied. His loss.

Jim ran away as fast as he could, oblivious to the fact that none of them had any intention of chasing him.

* * *

When Freddy arrived back at the junkyard he was still shaken, and angry at having been humiliated in front of his people again. He was in no mood to talk to Jake when he came running up to him urgently. "What?!" he snapped.

"You got a call..." said Jake.

"A call... What kind of call...?"

"A phone call..."

"OK..." A feeling of dread washed over Freddy as he realized there was only one real possibility to explain this. "Did they leave a number I can c"-

-"They're still on the line..."

That confirmed it. Freddy's jaw clenched.

* * *

The Rat King arrived at the edge of the site and stayed hidden. Quietly, calmly, he closed his eyes and concentrated. His mind reached out, in all directions. Tentacles of thought, stretching into spindly threads the further they got from him. From his mind to the minds of every rat within range. That was a lot of rats. Now they were activated once again, and the next phase was ready to begin.

* * *

"Hey! Couldn't you at least tie my hands _in front_ so I can hold the mic…?" April demanded sullenly. Her Foot ninja guard obligingly held the microphone in front of her. She looked at it and sighed. "Uh, thanks..." she said insincerely. "You're all heart. Not quite what I had in mind..."

Eyeing the surrounding activity in what she hoped would be taken as a casual manner, April took in every detail - this situation had the best potential for escape since her recapture by the Foot.

"At least try to hold it steady..." she berated her attendant. "Not so close..." The ninja adjusted the position of the mic. "Yeah... You're a real natural."

Soon after they went on air, the channel and then the police department would know where they were, and the clock would start ticking for a hurried evacuation. Foot ninja stood over the technicians threateningly while they hurriedly ran cables from the van in preparation for the impromptu broadcast, while their own van was on standby to leave. The Foot may have been on the rise again, but they weren't ready for a pitched battle with the police yet.

 _I told you you would help us_ , Freddy had said to her before he had gone off somewhere else, _and so you will..._ April shivered, and not just with the cold. Say what you like about the Shredder or Tatsu, but neither of them had been creepy. She idly wondered what would make a kid like Jake throw in his lot with the Foot Clan. That other guy too.

Speaking of whom... Matt moved over to them. "What's up…?" He took in the situation. "You can untie her now, you idiot. What do you think she's gonna do?"

"I got no orders" the ninja replied obstinately.

"Well, if she kills us all with her bare hands, I'll take full responsibility" Matt said with contempt, startling April by turning her round and freeing her hands. He grabbed the microphone and handed it to her.

"Uh, thanks..." she said awkwardly. As Matt turned to go, she stepped after him and called out "Hey, you're Jake's friend, right...?" He turned to face her. "I'm April. Hi... Looks like we're gonna be working together, huh…? How 'ya' liking showbiz so far…?"

"I know your name. _You_ know I know your name. You're trying to bond with me because you think somehow that will help you." He turned away again.

 _Don't let him walk away, ask another question..._ Perhaps it was the microphone in her hand, but April's training and experience kicked in. "Hey...!" To her surprise, that made Matt stop. "Uh, is it working…?" she asked hopefully with a brittle smile.

He paused, just for a moment, before continuing on his way. April impulsively followed a couple of paces, but Mister _I got no orders_ stepped into her path. _OK, OK..._ She held up a hand in annoyed resignation and went back to her place before the camera, toying anxiously with the microphone.

"'Bye, _Matt_..." she added quietly.

* * *

"What the hell is this...? At Channel 3, Phil leaned over the desk to get a better look at the tiny monitor showing him the feed from the outside broadcast van. A masked Foot ninja's face filled the screen.

"This feed goes on air and stays on air" said the ninja calmly. "It stays, till we say it stops. Or our hostages suffer. You got that?"

* * *

Clutching the microphone till her knuckles turned white, April tried to focus on the lens and ignore the Foot ninja all around. Kevin stepped up to the side of the camera and signaled to her... Three, two, one...

"We on…?" April began, and looked at the camera lens. "OK. This is April O'Neil, Channel 3 reporter..."

* * *

With their strange and diverse group of friends, the Turtles were still hanging around in Holland Square, trting to formulate a new strategy. Leonardo was surprised when a uniformed cop walked up to him and pressed a walkie-talkie into his hand.

He looked at the man questioningly. The cop indicated he hold it up. Leonardo did so. - " _Turtle... You there…?_ " Chief Sterns' voice crackled from the speaker.

"Yeah..." said Leonardo. "What's up, Chief…?"

In the Crisis Control Room, leaning on the center desk with one hand and clutching the walkie-talkie to his ear with the other, Chief Sterns looked grim. "You're gonna want to hear this..."

April's voice issued from the TV set up in the corner. - " _...I, along with several other employees of the channel, am being held hostage by the Foot Clan..._ "

* * *

Donatello had a TV set up in the corner of his work space. At the sound of a familiar voice he looked up, his attention caught.

\- " _I_ _'ve been instructed by representatives of the Foot to convey their position..._ "

* * *

"...That position is this..." April continued. "The Foot are anxious to meet with representatives of... another Clan, the Hamato, who will no doubt be watching or listening to this broadcast... The Hamato... know where this meeting is to take place and if they submit themselves before noon the, uh... hostages... that is, us, will not be harmed. If not, no such... promises can be made...

They also want me to inform you that they have possession of a certain... resource, and believe it would be unfortunate if that resource managed to find itself getting into anywhere it could cause trouble..." She found her gaze drifting toward the ninja carrying the keg of mutagen. "The water supply, say...

And if I might add a short message of my own for the Hamato..." April saw that Matt's hand was poised ready to pull the cable out and cut the broadcast at a half-second's notice, and she chose her words carefully. "Uh... Sorry, guys. Don't, uh, shoot the messenger... If it was just me here, you wouldn't be hearing this. I just don't want these other guys hurt... I trust you, OK…?"

* * *

Chief Sterns picked up the walkie-talkie again. "What do you think?" he asked Leonardo abruptly.

\- " _We got no choice, Chief..._ "

"You're a very... um, brave Turtle..." Sterns couldn't quite believe he had just said that.

\- " _Uh, thanks..._ "

"You're welcome." Sterns awkwardly ended the exchange.

* * *

"...This is April O'Neil, reporting live. Kidnapped by the Foot Clan. Tired, cold and, frankly, having a really, really _horrible_ weekend..." One of the Foot ninja gestured to stop and snatched the microphone from her, and at that moment they heard police sirens faintly in the distance.

"Time to go" said a ninja and led the way back toward their waiting van.

The Channel 3 crew looked around, confused, as the Foot retreated. "Leave them" said one of the ninja as a couple of his comrades tried to herd them toward the van. "There's not enough time."

For a second, April dared to hope that meant her as well. "What about her...?" asked another ninja. "Do we leave her too?" He _had_ to go and spoil it.

"Yes!" April answered eagerly. "Freddy did say that. I heard him. 'Soon as the broadcast is over, let her go, that's what he said..."

" _No way_. She's coming with us." April's heart sank at that, as she was grabbed roughly and shoved in the direction of the van. The worst part was that voice had been Matt. So much for bonding.

Kevin and the technicians looked like they were spoiling to intervene, to try and help her, but a couple of Foot ninja faced them down and they reluctantly retreated.

She thought quickly. A minute from now she would be in the van, and all hope of escape would be gone. If there was to be any chance, it had to be now. April tried slowing her pace, pretending to stumble. OK...

She chose her moment, and the ninja escorting her, Mister _I got no orders_ himself, was taken by surprise. She ducked down, and as he leaned forward she turned and punched him full in the face. The shock of it more than the force of the blow felled him and April stood for a moment, almost as surprised as he was. Only for a moment, though. Then she ran.

A Foot ninja appeared right in her path, and she veered left. Another one waited. Off to the right and another ninja nearly caught her. April was soon running out of directions to go in...

* * *

"Donny...? It's showtime. Whatever you got, we're gonna need it..." Leonardo stood in Donatello's workshop looking round at the controlled chaos. His brother looked up at him, one eye vastly magnified by an eyeglass.

"Go ahead and book the hall, Leo..." said Donatello. "I think I got us a _showstopper_..."

* * *

The Channel 3 van was abandoned, cables still snaking out the back and running up to the rear of the camera. A pair of booted feet casually stepped over the cable and the Rat King walked in front of the lens. He took the microphone from where it had been slung and, like a seasoned broadcaster, he spoke clearly and confidently.

"Can you hear me...? Put me on air right away... I wish to address the people..."

* * *

Back at Channel 3, Pete was monitoring the feed and he automatically laughed at the audacity of this guy, whoever he was. "Are you talkin' to me…?" he asked, before remembering the guy couldn't hear him, and looked round to see if anybody else was seeing this.

" _Yes_ " the Rat King replied. " _I am talking... To you._ "

* * *

"Where is she…?" One of the retreating ninja shrugged as Matt grabbed him. "Where's the reporter...?" The first police cars were visible now, and the Foot were running out of time. If April escaped again, this time on his watch...

Mister _I got no orders_ stumbled up to him, rubbing his jaw through the mask. Matt grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Please tell me you haven't let her escape…?!"

Matt forced himself to remain calm. _Think._ He scanned the terrain around them, and his eyes fixed on the dilapidated buildings a couple of hundred yards away, the remains of some old factory. "Take the van to the backup rendezvous" he called. He quickly deployed the other ninja standing nearby.

"You, you and you" he said sharply, "Round and approach from that side. You and you, with me..." He set off at a run.

* * *

Across New York, a carefully co-ordinated and focused program of sabotage was taking place. Swiftly, almost silently and entirely unnoticed. Cables were cut, nibbled through efficiently, while others were pointedly left alone. Controls were re-set, very precisely. Video and audio feeds were cut off. Communications shut down. A city left temporarily blind and deaf.

While all the other channels showed only static, Channel 3 was left running. Throughout the city, dials were turned, remotes were picked up, channels surfed... All surfing led to the one channel still operating...

* * *

April pressed herself against the crumbling wall, heart thumping, hardly daring even to breathe. She could no longer hear anyone pursuing her, but it was far too early to be counting any chickens. Time was on her side, though, and that gave her hope - if they delayed the Foot would find themselves in a lot of trouble.

Still nothing… Relief flooded through her as she dared to believe it was going to be all right. OK... Maybe now she could risk a look... She crept along to the edge of the wall, and slowly edged round, just enough and no more, to check the coast was clear...

A Foot ninja stood inches away, looking directly at her...! As she stepped back, April heard sounds behind and to the side as others approached, and didn't need to look to know she was trapped.

"Yeah..." she said quietly, despondent but resigned, and raised her arms as they came towards her. "All right! I'm coming, OK...?" she protested as some of them grabbed at her. "Enough with the hands…!"

* * *

The Rat King stepped forward again and prepared to address his waiting audience, which by now was pretty vast. It may not have included every citizen of New York, but it was certainly a lot of them and virtually all the ones that _counted_.

* * *

"Cut him off" Chief Sterns commanded in the Crisis Control Room. "Cut this joker off. But leave the feed to here. I wanna see what he does..."

\- " _Nothing, Chief..._ " Phil's voice crackled over the phone line to Channel Three.

"Whad'ya mean, nothing…?"

\- " _I mean, I got no control..._ "

* * *

The Japanese boy came into his grandparents' sitting room at the sound of his grandmother's call. What was it...? He was busy... He stopped, and stared, at the sight of the face on the TV. That guy who left the apartment only a couple of hours ago...

His grandfather came in, down to his vest, demanding an answer to the question he had just hollered from the bathroom. "What, Grandpa…?" the boy asked, irritated. "Uh, no... I don't know what's happened to your little shaving mirror..."

\- " _Peoples of New York..._ " Their attention returned to the screen.

* * *

The Rat King took off his dark glasses and stared right down the lens. "It is important that you listen to me very carefully now... What I have to say to you is vital..."

All across the city, a vast audience waited, rapt...

\- " _Sleep..._ "

Something close to four million people entered a trance state. Ready. Waiting. Receptive.

"Peoples of New York..." the Rat King whispered. "To borrow a memorable and somehow apt phrase... Consider yourself... _One of us_..."

* * *

 **Next:** The Turtles hit the road, Jake isn't the only one in two minds, and more than one trap is sprung…


	20. Public Enemy Nos. 1-4

\- " _The ninja turtles are enemies of the people... They must be apprehended on sight. Killed if necessary._ " The Rat King's message might have been broadcast across the entire city, but one man in particular was the intended recipient.

Chief Sterns felt rather than saw all eyes in the Crisis Control Room turn to him. He paused, but only for a moment, then he picked up the phone. "All units..."

* * *

Michelangelo turned from the TV. "OK... Does this mean we get to be on _America's Most Wanted_...?"

"I really think we should start getting ourselves out of here..." Raphael fretted.

"That's it, Leo... The truck's loaded..." Donatello slammed down the phone and turned to the others purposefully. Leonardo jumped down from the bench he had been perched on.

"OK, guys... Let's go."

* * *

The Rat King took the opportunity to receive the reports of his legions of rats all over the city and beyond. Letting his mind wander onto a different plane, he relaxed and breathed out slowly, giving himself over to the bewildering array of sensory inputs. Then he sifted them, choosing to exclude all but the most relevant, whittling down and down and down... There.

_-Nephew..._

A brief image flashed before him, overriding all the others and snapping him out of the meditative state, back into the mundane reality of the waste land and the abandoned Channel 3 outside broadcast... A face. A familiar face. Lawrence Hynten - The Rat King. No... he was the Rat King. He, and no other...!

The Rat King wiped the sheen of sweat from Bryan Bryant's ashen face.

* * *

As they walked down the long corridor, Michelangelo watched while Donatello clipped a strange-looking device to his belt. "Hey... What's that...?"

"Surprise, Mikey..."

"HEY...!" They turned to see a group of uniformed cops run in at the far end of the corridor and start chasing them, guns drawn.

"What gives...?" demanded Raphael.

A bullet impacted on the wall near them, gouging chips of plaster that impacted on Leonardo's shell. "I knew it wouldn't last" said Michelangelo philosophically. "Them being nice to us" he added in explanation.

"Got a plan, Leo...?" asked Donatello.

" _Run_ sound good?" Leonardo led the way. "Motor pool, guys...! And let's hope they're not there waiting for us...!"

* * *

The Foot Clan's junkyard base was in fortress mode, with their entire strength, however meager compared to the glory days of Master Shredder, recalled and standing to arms. All approaches were watched, all entrances guarded... Now, not even a rat could get in or out unchallenged.

Jake was on guard duty, the kind nobody wanted - _Thanks, Freddy_ \- and as he clambered up and over the piles of junk surrounding the yard, he found himself glancing more and more at the workshop below... April O'Neil was held prisoner there again - He had seen the van arrive, seen them hurry her from the back of the vehicle to the workshop and he had seen the doors closed and barred as sentries took up positions outside. The workshop was now the most secure place of all - Freddy really was determined to keep her here this time.

Telling himself it was all part of his job patrolling the perimeter, Jake moved into a position where he could get a look through the large part-open window on the front of the workshop - _Yeah_ , there she was, he could just see her head and shoulders... As well as April, he could see the two Foot ninja guards standing watch over her. _Oh yeah_... Remembering he had them, he pulled out the small binoculars from the pouch attached to his belt and, making sure first _he_ wasn't being watched, took a closer look.

Her face was turned away, toward the back of the workshop, but as he watched April turned her head - dark brown tresses spilled from her shoulder to reveal a tell-tale loop of rope taut against the black leather of her jacket - Also visible now was the strip of silver tape over her mouth. They had her tied up again... _'Cause, obviously, armed guards and barred doors just ain't enough..._ Why had he ever joined an outfit like this...?

 _Yeah..._ And why did he keep wondering that when he knew the answer better than anyone.

* * *

"I'm letting Tatsu's hardcore guys look after her..." said Freddy casually as he and Matt walked around the yard. "They miss him and, you know, I told them we were following his original plan... We can trust them to keep her nice and secure, and the bonus is it'll keep them distracted."

"Yeah..." said Matt.

"Whereas you... I heard you almost let her escape" said Freddy, stopping next to the doors of the workshop. Ignoring the sentries, he turned to look at Matt in an unsettling way that could just as easily be light-hearted or deadly serious.

Matt chose to take the reproach lightly, and replied in an amused tone. "Well, you know how it is, some fool got careless...

 _There was never any danger..._ " On the other side of the doors, April could just faintly hear their conversation and that last statement made her eyes narrow in pained annoyance. As if she didn't have enough to be annoyed about already... Investigating with her fingertips the coarse rope binding her wrists, this time she couldn't even _find_ any knots... It was hopeless!

"M _mmmfff...!_ " With a pleading look that could move a stone to pity - just not a Foot ninja, unfortunately for her - April tried to get the guards' attention. There was no response, although she was pretty sure they did glance over at each other. " _Mmm_ -mm _mmff_ -mmff- _mmm_ mm _fff_...?!" she demanded accusingly, losing patience. _How do you sleep at night?_

There was still no response, so she gave up on her doomed attempt to make them feel guilty. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't working... _ _Oh yeah_ , _she realized, that was because the Foot tended not to recruit nice people... Then the concerned look on Jake's guileless face came to mind, and it occurred to her that even when they did it was so weird you wished they hadn't.

 _"Do we even need her any more...?"_ As Freddy and Matt started talking again, April turned her head and listened carefully. They really were speaking far too quietly for her liking...

At Matt's question, Freddy tilted his head a little, with the beginnings of a trademark smirk. "Does that mean you think we should let her go, or...?"

Matt drew back. "What I think doesn't matter."

Freddy let the smirk loose. "And what about young Jake?"

Matt paused for a moment. "He'll follow orders. I promise you that."

"We got a call" Freddy said abruptly. When Matt looked bemused at that, he added " _From Japan_. They're sending someone. Flight's already left Tokyo. He'll be here tomorrow, early..."

Matt exhaled slowly. He didn't talk for a good few seconds. "New boss? He knows what's happening?"

Freddy nodded. "Most of it. Wants the Turtles alive."

"But our... ally is gonna kill them..."

"I certainly wouldn't be selling them life insurance right now..."

Matt smiled faintly. "OK. That could be a problem, if you want this new boss to leave you in command here."

"That could be a problem if I want him to leave me _alive_ here." Freddy had a faraway look for a moment. "…You know, the Turtles didn't bring down the Shredder totally alone. What if there was someone else I could hand over…?"

Listening intently to the faint voices, April was startled as her chair was dragged away from the doors, the guards embarrassed at having realized so late she was listening to the conversation outside - Anxious to appear more alert, one of them checked again that her ropes were secure. She tried to listen again, with a sinking feeling like whatever was being discussed on the other side of those doors somehow concerned her - Why that gave her such a strong sense of foreboding, April wasn't sure, but it _really_ did...

* * *

The Turtles were squeezed into the cab of a large truck, driven at speed and with some skill by Donatello. Their destination – the junk yard. The entire city might be out to get them, but one way or another there was definitely going to be a reckoning.

"Hey, it's a good thing that rat guy's mojo doesn't work on us" mused Donatello. "Otherwise we'd be trying to arrest ourselves right now..."

"Just when I was getting used to being welcome up here..." said Raphael with regret.

"Why don't we have a truck...?" pondered Michelangelo. "We need a truck. Or a van... How cool would that be…?"

"Yeah, Mike..." said Raphael sarcastically. "Maybe we could put a giant Turtle symbol on it, and maybe the Chief could shine a big light in the sky when he needs us... Or more likely _now_ , shoot us..."

"Raph..." cautioned Leonardo, but didn't press the matter.

"Yeah...!" Michelangelo responded, enthusiastically. "You know what, Raph, you're full of great ideas right now..."

"You got that bit right..."

"Uh, sorry to be pedantic..." offered Donatello, "but we sort of _do_ have a truck. _This_ one..."

Sirens. Urgent-sounding police sirens. Getting closer. The Turtles looked at each other. Uh-oh.

"Anybody know any short-cuts…?" asked Donatello.

* * *

The Rat King left the camera set up unattended in the no man's land of the disused housing blocks and walked out into the massive landfill site. The Foot's junkyard was at the other side, a mile or so away. The wind picked up, but the place was otherwise quiet and calm. Perfect for his needs.

He had to concentrate. All across the city, his rats had taken up their planned positions. The people under his influence mostly stood back and let them. The city was his. Before long, work on mutating the rats could begin again, this time without resistance. First, though, the Turtles had to be dealt with...

* * *

Chief Sterns walked briskly down the stairs of the Municipal Building and out to his car, grim-faced. The building had been searched. They were no longer there. Worse still, the truck was missing. The truck containing the M-

-"Chief!" a voice yelled. "Chief Sterns…!" Irma came running, Todd half-running half-limping behind her.

"What...?" he said irritably. That headache was back, and he felt weirdly confused like he was half-asleep or something. _Now_ he had to get a migraine...

"Have you seen the Turtles...? They said they would be here..."

"Yes" Sterns replied, suddenly very serious and intense. "They did. You have any idea where they are...?" He stepped close to Irma, intimidatingly close.

"Uh... No..." she replied, looking at his chin. "You OK, Chief? You don't seem..."

"Fine." He clicked his fingers. "Get these two into cells. I'll want to talk to them later once we got the Turtles dealt with."

"What...?!" Irma found herself grabbed by the accompanying cops and bustled away, as did Todd. Every time she thought she had a handle on what was going on...

* * *

Freddy walked along the line of Foot ninja, fully-dressed and armed for combat. Some fidgeted nervously as he passed them, betraying their youth and lack of experience. He had to admit they were a motley bunch now, a shadow of the force commanded by Master Shredder just a few weeks ago.

"You're trained. You're ready..." he told them. "Now, let's see what you can do..." The one of them pointed toward the gates of the yard, and Freddy knew what he would see. He was smiling even before he found himself confronting the Turtles.

Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo spread out as they passed through the gate and entered the yard. Weapons ready. Contained and alert for the slightest sign of a trap.

"You got my little message then...?" Freddy asked.

"Just let April go, and we'll be on our way..." Leonardo didn't even make eye contact, as though to underline how little he thought of this particular opponent after confronting the Shredder _twice_. His gaze swept over the Foot ninja, not too impressed with them either. "We don't wanna have to hurt you guys..."

"Not too much anyways..." added Raphael.

"What...? Just like that...? What kind of negotiations are these...?"

"What…?" Leonardo was genuinely confused.

"Look at it this way..." said Freddy. "The Foot Clan is here to stay. So are you. We recognize that. I think we owe it to ourselves to stop this senseless conflict and come to some form of arrangement. I mean, what is this all about…? A feud between two people who are now both dead...?"

"Can I break some heads, Leo...?" Raphael urged. "Can I, huh…? Can I... Can I…?"

"I'm with Raph..." said Michelangelo.

"This is a trick, Leo..." was Donatello's contribution.

"I don't blame your advisers for being suspicious" Freddy conceded. "But what do _you_ think…? _Leo_..."

Leonardo considered that, carefully and for a good few seconds. "OK..." For the first time, he looked Freddy in the eye, and again he said, very precisely, " _Just let April go, and we'll be on our way..._ "

* * *

The Rat King felt a twinge of angst. Something unforeseen, unexpected... A presence crossed the threshold of his awareness, and then it was gone... _What…?_

_No...!_

Bryan Bryant made a break for freedom at that moment, and though the Rat King easily subdued his feeble effort to regain control of his body it distracted him and threw him off-balance for a few precious moments. No. As a host, Bryan was nowhere near as suitable as his uncle Lawrence had been. He was a temporary expedient at best. For now, however, he would have to do.

* * *

"You know" Leonardo began, moving in on Freddy slowly, "If you'd wanted to be friends, apart from all the other stuff you've done, I mean _forgetting all that_ , kidnapping our _actual_ friend as bait is not the best way to get on our good side..."

"Watch it, Leo..." Donatello warned. "He's trying to bait us..."

"Wait just a minute..." Michelangelo was confused. "First April's the bait, now we're being baited... Could somebody just decide who the heck is the bait here and who isn't...?"

"Mikey, c'mon..." Donatello said incredulously. Sometimes he really didn't know when his brother was actually for real. "It's a metaphor... You know, like with the fishing...? The little worms..."

Something about Freddy changed. He appeared slyer, if that was possible. "Is that what you think...?"

"Is _what_ what we think...?" Leonardo demanded irritably.

"April's not the bait..." said Freddy.

"Who is the bait…?" pondered Michelangelo. "I'm not the bait, am I…?" As the others looked at him curiously, he added "Hey... Way to make a guy paranoid..."

"Stop with the tricks, OK..." said Raphael, getting more menacing looking by the second. "Just hand her"-

-"I was the bait!" Freddy laughed. "And you're all on the hook... Now!"

One of the Foot ninja dived for a strategically-placed barrel and set off a waiting flare gun, firing into the sky where the flare shone and fizzed for several seconds. They all paused. "Was that it...?" asked Raphael, unimpressed.

The Turtles sprang into action, and a fight broke out. The Foot ninja fought desperately, knowing they were outmatched even if they had superior numbers. The Turtles, knowing this, had fun with it.

"Hey, Raph..." yelled Donatello, seeing his brother's aggressiveness. "Don't rush. You know you should chew your food..." Turning to the ninja he was fighting effortlessly he said "Yeah... That's right. We eat people. Bet ya didn't know that..." Knocking the man on the head and jumping over his unconscious form he added "That joke never gets old."

Looking over at Michelangelo's exploits, he commented "That's great, Mikey... You know, we almost never see you use those 'chuks anymore. Why is that...?"

Freddy made for the open manhole into the tunnel below, and stopped short as Whiskers jumped out and blocked his way. Leonardo ran across and blocked his only other potential escape route.

"Check and mate..." said Leonardo grimly. "Now..."

At that moment, Whiskers became dizzy and cried out in confusion. He fell over.

"You OK, Whisk...?" asked Donatello.

"Whisk...?" demanded Raphael, appalled. "Give the guy some dignity, Don..."

Whiskers seemed to recover and looked round them, perplexed. "He... He is _near_..." he said cryptically.

With attention off him, Freddy took the opportunity and ran across and vanished through a gap in the fence. The Turtles took a few moments to notice.

"Leo... He's getting away... You want me to go after him...?"

"No, Mikey..." replied Leonardo. "Let him go. He's spent..."

"See ya!" called Raphael after Freddy.

"Wouldn't wanna be ya!" added Donatello. The others laughed.

"Yeah..." Michelangelo mused. "You know, guys, that dude makes me kinda miss the Shredder. You know what I mean…?"

"Weirdly, I think I do" replied Leonardo. "Are we forgetting anything, guys...?"

They thought about it carefully. "Maybe..." said Raphael. "It's been a tiring day, Leo. Anything in mind…?" They all figured it out at once.

"APRIL...!"

Leonardo nodded patiently.

"Over here, guys...!" suggested Donatello. He led the way to the doors of the workshop. "I bet she's in here!"

Grinning, Michelangelo helped Donatello wrestle the doors open. "Honey... We're-!" The first to see inside, he abruptly stopped, confused, and his shoulders slumped.

The others peered in. The interior was gloomy and cluttered, but it was clear enough what _wasn't_ in there. As their eyes got accustomed to the lack of light, they saw the chair in the middle of the floor strewn high with discarded coils of rope.

"...Home..." Donatello finished Michelangelo's quip for him with a downbeat tone.

"Where'd she go…?" pondered Michelangelo quietly.

* * *

"There's nothing he can do!" Jake argued earnestly.

Driving the van, Matt continued to look unimpressed. "He could have the others kill you..." he pointed out calmly.

"Would you do it? If you had to…? Kill me?"

Matt didn't blink. "Maybe. If I had no choice."

Jake preferred to pretend that hadn't been the answer. "It's the right thing to do. Just let her go!"

"Yeah, I know you got yourself a little crush on Miss O'Neil back there, everybody knows that... Fine, so long as you don't let it make you do something stupid..."

"Or something smart, for the first time in my life..."

"Seriously", said Matt, exasperated, "Sorry to break this to you, but we're the Foot. We _won't_ be saving the day, and you're _not_ gonna get the girl… Why is she worth the risk…? Is it the pretty face…? The career trajectory…? Is it the sassy put downs for Freddy…? The tight leather pants…? All those things…? What…?"

He paused for a moment. "Listen to me..." he said, calmer. "You obey orders... That's how the Foot works. You wanted to join...! More than I ever did!"

"Things were different then..."

"Yeah... Simpler... Now they're more complicated. Deal with it."

* * *

Leonardo immediately took the lead, refusing to let anyone descend into blame and recrimination, self or otherwise. He went straight to Whiskers. "Do you know where they might have taken her...? I mean, you got some kind of link... We just need somewhere to start looking..."

Raphael turned away, angry, as Whiskers sorrowfully shook his head. "Great…! Just great!"

"Well..." Leonardo continued, shooting an annoyed glare at Raphael, "If you do think of anything, just let us know, OK...?"

"Whiskers... wants to help..."

"Sure..." said Raphael bitterly. "Everybody wants to help. I bet that really means a lot to April right now!"

"Guys... I kinda wish we hadn't let that Freddy creep go now..." said Michelangelo. Leonardo stared at him wearily, eyes hooded.

"Yeah, Mikey... The thought had occurred..."

"Guys...!" warned Donatello, who had been keeping watch. "We got company."

The Rat King entered the yard. A different Rat King, but the Turtles had seen so much weird stuff in association with this guy, they took that in their stride.

"Hi..." said Raphael. "Back for a rematch…?"

"No" the Rat King replied. "Back for... seconds."

Donatello turned to Leonardo. "This guy gets it... The tone. That's all I'm sayin'." Ignoring him, Leonardo stepped forward.

"We got a friend to rescue" he announced. "You really don't wanna get in our way this time."

The Rat King spoke to Whiskers. "My servant... You have been missed..."

"Not... your servant" Whiskers assured him, which seemed to amuse his would-be master.

"Hey" said Raphael. "You mess with our pal, you mess with us... So, come and get messed..."

"Maybe this guy knows how we can find April..." Michelangelo considered.

"Your little minds... How do you exist in something so small...?" The Rat King, eyes closed, stayed where he was as they advanced on him, weapons ready.

It was as if a dam had burst. The rats erupted through the gates and across the fence, a multitude of them. More than they had yet seen concentrated in one place. The Turtles turned, to find more rats coming up from the tunnel through the open manhole.

They were trapped.

* * *

 **Next:** Freddy devotes his life to charitable causes, April gets rescued and the Turtles become human. No, wait… None of those things happen.


	21. City Without Pity

There were actually so many rats that their numbers became a disadvantage - They got in each other's way. That was the Turtles' only edge, and it gave them time to seek higher ground. The four of them leaped onto barrels and took a look around, minds fertile for any stratagem, anything they could use against their overwhelming enemy.

The rats milled around them, apparently getting up the courage for a sustained assault. The Turtles looked at each other, aware they might only have seconds before the rats enveloped them all.

Whiskers watched helplessly, the rats having left him a little island to stand helplessly _in_. Had the Rat King spared him deliberately, or did the rats innately know him for one of themselves...? Who knew…?

He felt strange. He opened his mouth to try to call out to the Turtles. Was he trying to call out some reassurance, some kind of comradely defiance... He didn't know. He was finding it more and more difficult to form words, even to reconcile the concepts behind them. Bringing a hand up, he saw the claws shrinking back, the fingers becoming gradually cruder in shape again, de-evolving before his eyes.

The Rat King walked forward, his servants making way and closing up again behind him as he passed. Bryan Bryant's stolen face, half-hidden in the shadow of the wide-brimmed hat, was fixed fiercely in a savage leer.

"Now, Turtles... No more delays... No more cheating... This time, you die...!"

Leonardo turned to Donatello. "Donny... Um, now..."

Donatello had the device from his belt in his hand before Leo finished talking, and quickly activated it.

* * *

The Turtles truck, waiting near the junkyard, was quiet and still. Till suddenly something inside made it tremble and rock from side to side. The doors opened violently and-

* * *

-before anyone in the junkyard knew what was happening, all hell broke loose. The rats turned to face a new aggressor, and got the shock of their lives. Quite literally.

They broke through the gate. They swarmed over the walls. Some of them hovered in the air... "Yeah... I made some of them fly..." said Donatello smugly.

"What do you call these things again…?" asked Leonardo. Donatello smiled proudly.

"Mousers!"

The robots attacked the rats ferociously, delivering electric shocks that left the creatures prone with their legs in the air. Non-lethal electric shocks. Donatello had seen to that. The rats regrouped and counter-attacked, and many Mousers disappeared under piles of the rodents as they tried to overwhelm with their superior numbers. Where that happened, the Mouser in question would become silent and still, before a brief blinding flash of light accompanied a flurry of rats flying through the air and the Mouser re-joined the melee.

The Rat King saw quickly what was happening, and his eyes locked with Leonardo's. Two generals sizing each other up. Then, finally, the Rat King gave a smile. Leo didn't like the look of that.

* * *

The Foot's stolen van drew up at a nondescript warehouse in a very shady neighborhood, and Jake and Matt clambered out of the cab. "You sure this is the place?"

"I'm sure" Matt confirmed. The rear doors opened, and he didn't let their fellow Foot ninja rest for a moment. "OK, fellas, this is gonna be home for a while. Let's get set up."

Shifting into position with some difficulty, impeded by her wrists and ankles still being bound, April peered warily out of the back of the van. She barely got a glimpse of their new surroundings before one of the Foot ninja slung her over his shoulder, ignoring her duct-tape muffled protest, and marched off toward the entrance to the warehouse.

She raised her head as she was borne away, and shot a look of both appeal and accusation at Jake.

Matt cast a glance at his friend, unsurprised to see his jaw clenching and unclenching. Conscience still troubling him. He didn't expect one little pep talk to get rid of that right away, but it really was something he had to lose. Or it might be the death of both of them.

* * *

Outside the yard, understandably unnoticed by those inside, a cavalcade of police cars had drawn up. Chief Sterns got out as his people hurriedly took up their positions. Getting out of another car, held by cops, Irma and Todd watched apprehensively.

Sterns reached back inside the car and pulled out another remote control, just like Donatello's...

* * *

The Mousers had won. The few rats that were still conscious were retreating from the punishing shocks and it looked like the day was theirs. Till suddenly they all stopped. The lights in front went out, their mechanical limbs stopped moving and one by one they all fell silent.

Donatello frantically manipulated every control on his device, but none had any effect. In answer to Leonardo's questioning look, he shrugged.

The Rat King was ready. Erupting into action, he attacked the Turtles furiously, knocking each one off their raised platforms and following up with a lightning fast series of moves that brought them lower still. All the knowledge of every Rat King of the past, coupled with Master Splinter's, went into an attack the Turtles just couldn't resist...

The Turtles were at his mercy. He didn't have any. He stood ready to deliver the final attack that would finish them off. All four of them.

He stopped, and turned to view the new arrival slowly clambering up out of the tunnel.

Splinter.

Four pairs of Turtle eyes widened as one, and the brothers stared at their returned sensei in awe. Splinter spared them only a brief glance, before his attention turned back to the Rat King.

"You...!" the Rat King got out, hoarsely, as if he had no breath left. "How is it possible…?"

"You were careless..." Splinter said calmly, moving toward him. The Rat King did not retreat. Though he was shocked by the return of his former servant, he did not actually fear him. After all, he had innate control over all rats.

Curiosity took hold. He wanted to know _how..._

"I lost everything..." Splinter continued, addressing the unspoken question. "Even control of my own mind. In the end, there was nothing I could do to resist your power. So that is what I did. I did nothing..."

"What...?" the Rat King sneered.

"I surrendered completely. To the elements themselves. I let myself fall, so I might have a hope of rising again. I had faith that the forces opposed to you would not let me die..."

"I lost sight of you... How was that possible...?"

"It is your power, not mine. You must ask yourself why. Perhaps your blindness was a result of your pride. My act of self-will was impossible, according to you. So, I became invisible..."

"Or perhaps it is a result of the mutagen that changed you..."

A slight movement of Splinter's head seemed to concede the possibility.

The Rat King came forward to meet him. "Either way, it does not matter. You cannot fail to obey me if I will it. It is an impossibility..."

The two of them stood there for what seemed like an hour in a titanic battle of mental power. Splinter held his ground.

"There cannot be two Rat Kings!" the definite article shouted, flecks of spittle flying from Bryan Bryant's mouth.

"No" Splinter agreed. "There cannot."

In his frustration the Rat King abandoned the battle of wills and fell back on cruder methods. He leaned over Splinter and said in a low voice-

-as Splinter reached into the folds of his kimono-

" _Sleep..._ " Splinter produced the small shaving mirror and held it out so that the Rat King found himself staring into his own eyes at the critical moment of influence. He threw up his hands and staggered back.

Splinter and the Turtles watched as the Rat King fell over, before fighting his way back to his feet. "No...! What have you done...?"

"I have done nothing" said Splinter. "You have too much power to safely remain in one being. I take it only so it can be spread more evenly." As the Rat King retreated Splinter advanced. "I free all those whom you have held in your power. Let them control their own destinies..."

"No..!" The Rat King could feel his power dwindling, like it was slipping through his fingers, unable to stop it. A process of degradation, of simplification that grew in intensity the more he tried to stop it.

"It is the natural order of things. The return to simpler forms. Do not resist it, if you want to keep some piece of yourself intact" Splinter urged. "I do not wish your destruction..."

The Rat King summoned up what was left of his failing strength and retreated from the yard, out onto the vast sea of garbage. Blind and deaf to everything except the basic primal urge to flee.

The rats gathered round Splinter, looking up to him. He looked at them benignly. "Do not look to me. You are your own masters now..." he told them, and they started to scatter. Out through the gates, into the tunnel, off in all directions. Soon the rats were all gone.

Raphael stepped forward. "Let's get after him!"

Splinter closed his eyes patiently. "No... That will not be necessary..."

"Does that make Splinter king of the rats now...?" Donatello mused.

Leonardo shook his head. "No... They don't need one..."

Michelangelo called them over. "Hey, guys..." Whiskers was slumped on the ground, breathing rapidly but shallowly. "I really think there's something wrong with Whisk..." None of them noticed as Splinter slipped quietly out of the yard.

* * *

Jake and Matt stood together outside the warehouse. "You got any smokes...?" Jake's tone betrayed his nervousness, and Matt's answering look was quietly amused.

"I don't smoke."

"Yeah, I know. I just thought..."

"Neither do you. In fact, I've never seen you smoke."

"Yeah. Figured this was a good time to start."

They both laughed. It was a welcome relief of the awkwardness that had built up during the journey.

"Look" said Matt. "Just stay calm, do your duty, forget the girl, you'll be fine. We'll all be fine..." Jake looked for a moment like he planned to argue, but finally he found himself nodding.

The two of them went inside the building. Four other Foot ninja sat around a table playing cards, their prisoner perched on a packing crate a short distance away. Security around April was a lot less rigorous than at the workshop, but with her hands and feet tied escape wasn't really an option.

She watched them warily, then shifted her gaze to Matt and Jake as they approached. Like the soldier he sort of was, Matt took in every detail of the vast space but April noticed that Jake didn't even glance in her direction. He awkwardly sat with the others, declining their offer to cut him in on the game.

Matt approached her. "You OK…?" he asked casually.

"What do you care?" It was the first time April had spoken since they had removed the duct-tape - She wasn't feeling very talkative. Matt suspected that Freddy would have preferred her to remain gagged, but since he hadn't actually said so…

"I don't care..." he said harshly, as if to belittle the scant evidence of his merciful nature, "But while I'm responsible for you I don't want things to be any worse than they have to be."

" _Reeeally...?_ " she asked, eyes directed at the ceiling far above. "Thanks... I suppose you'd let me go if it was up to you, _yadda yadda yadda_..."

"Yeah. I would, actually. But it's not up to me."

"Yeah, I know... Freddy the mighty... And where do you suppose he is right now…?"

"He'll be here..." April was pretty sure she caught a number of conflicting feelings from Matt on that subject. Weary resignation seemed to come out on top.

Oh, what the hell, what did she have to lose? "You know what's happened, right…? There's no way Freddy has beaten the Turtles... You think _you_ can...?"

"They won't find us, if that's what you're counting on... Sorry, but it's true..."

"You root for your team, Matt. I'll root for mine."

He turned and walked away, and April shifted position uncomfortably on the crate. After a discreet interval, Jake approached.

"Uh... Hi..."

"Hi yourself, Jake... What's up…?"

You want something to drink…? We got water, cola... And there's some pizza... It's cold, but"-

-"Thanks, but no thanks, Jake. I'll get something soon as I get outta here, OK…?"

A long, fairly awkward pause. "OK" he replied, and went back to the others.

* * *

The Rat King stumbled across the sea of junk - confused, eyes wild, the screaming in his mind drowning out everything else. Flee! All his instincts, and at the moment that was all he had, were telling him to get as far away as possible as _quickly_ as possible. He was stumbling blindly, paying very little attention to his surroundings, and finally the inevitable happened. He fell.

Sprawled on the debris littering the dump, he looked up. The screaming in his head was gone. In its place, just a howling emptiness. A complete absence of sound, thought, anything.

A figure stood nearby. The rat. Splinter. The Rat King automatically reached out with his mind to command Splinter, but it was like bouncing off an invisible shield around the Turtles' sensei. Splinter merely stood watching him.

He became aware of another figure standing next to Splinter. No, not quite standing. Floating slightly off the ground. Insubstantial, ever so slightly see-through. Lawrence Hynten.

"Wha- What...?" As the Rat King gasped incoherently, Splinter looked to the left, apparently at Hynten, not at all perturbed by the Rat King's hallucination. If that was what it was. Could _he_ see it too?

"It's over..." said Hynten in his comfortingly gravelly voice. "Let it go..."

"Let... What are you...?" The Rat King struggled to his feet and pointed wildly, Splinter regarding him again calmly. "You are _gone._..! You're dead...!"

"Yes" said Hynten serenely. "But my nephew is not. Let him go. Let him _live_."

The Rat King in the body of Bryan Bryant snarled, gasping with the effort of holding onto his host. "Never...! Ugghhh... Never...!" He bowed his head and crouched down near the ground to overcome the wave of nausea he felt.

When he looked up again, Hynten was gone. So was Splinter.

* * *

Free of the controlling influence of the Rat King, in his confusion Chief Sterns had gone off for a little aimless wander, and the remote control slipped from his hands and hit the ground. Those among his subordinates who weren't similarly affected looked at each other, baffled.

_"What's going on...?"_

_"What's up with the Chief…?"_

_"I dunno... I wonder if he's having one of his... You know..."_

_"Yeah... What was that…? Nervous exhaustion, I heard..."_

_"It's been coming for years…"_

Irma and Todd slipped away, as apparently no one had any intention of stopping them. They cautiously went through the gates into the junkyard, and hurried over to the Turtles.

They had been checking Whiskers was all right, and straightened up as Irma and Todd came in. A delighted reunion ensued. Hugging, slapping of backs, elaborate handshakes and lots of delighted voices talking over each other.

"So, what happened to the rat guy...?" asked Irma. She looked round hurriedly, shivering, and noticed the scattered Mousers for the first time. "Uh... There aren't any real ones around here, I hope..." She looked at Whiskers. "Uh, no offense. I don't mean you."

"Don't worry... These guys saved our lives..." Donatello explained, indicating the deactivated Mousers.

"I might 'a known you had something to do with it..." Irma said with a smile.

Turning to Leonardo, Raphael said "So, Master Splinter's back... You were right, Leo... And, you know what, I'm glad you were right..."

"Anybody got a tape recorder...?" Leonardo asked. Raphael grinned and tried to put him in a headlock. Leonardo, grinning too, fought his way free easily enough.

"So, I said _Wise men say, forgiveness is divine, but never pay full price for late pizza_..." Michelangelo was telling a bemused Todd.

"Y'know, guys, I feel like there's something we've forgotten..." Raphael pondered.

"Yeah, I know what you mean..." Leonardo agreed. The two of them looked at each other, and their expressions changed together. The same alarmed look crossed both their faces. That same instant, they both set off at a run.

"...Hey, it was really nothing..." Irma was fielding questions about the events in Holland Square from an amused Donatello. "...After what she said earlier, it was easy to work out what to do..."

Donatello nodded. "What who said…?"

Raphael and Leonardo hurtled past, Michelangelo right behind them, and Leonardo grabbed Donatello and pulled him along. "APRIL…!"

"Where are we going, Leo…?!" Raphael demanded.

"After that Freddy guy!"

"He's got too much of a head start!"

"We have to try!"

Splinter blocked their way. The Turtles all grinned and all started to speak at once, gabbling. Their sensei silenced them with a raised hand. With the support of his stick, he moved over to Whiskers where he was still slumped on the ground.

"Hey..." Michelangelo said quietly. "Whiskers is smaller than he used to be..."

"He's regressing, Mike…" Donatello said even more quietly. "The mutagen is wearing off. Unlike ours, it only had a temporary effect..."

"Right... Yeah..."

Becoming aware of the new presence, Whiskers slowly raised his head. In a moment of silent understanding, he and Splinter seemed to reach an agreement.

* * *

The Rat King was still in control of one human body at least. Just about. Hanging on by his metaphorical fingertips. He staggered, falling every so often as he clambered over the piles of garbage, and finally ended up rolling down a slope until he reached the edge of the river.

The dank smell was overpowering, and that was bad news because Bryan was somehow using that sensory stimulation as a lifeline. He was slowly but ever more surely emerging from the depths of his own mind.

No!

The Rat King had been in existence for millennia... It couldn't end like this...!

Bryan looked up. He was back. He was in control of his own mind and his own body again. It felt strange. He needed a moment to get used to this...

Sirens. Sirens approaching. They reminded Bryan with a start that he was a fugitive.

He hurried to the water's edge. He would swim for it! Then he remembered. He couldn't swim...

The Rat King could…!

The what...? He felt a strange sensation as all the knowledge and experience of the Rat King evaporated in the space of a few seconds. He felt like something huge and important was looming over him, something... No. It was gone.

Bryan turned and raised his hands as the first cops clambered down the slope towards him. "Hands up!" they called unnecessarily.

* * *

April jumped down from the crate and shuffled a few steps, the rope around her ankles cramping her style considerably. The Foot ninja all looked at her, and one of them stood.

"Hey…!" she protested. "I got cramp, OK…? I'm not exactly going anywhere..." At a nod from Matt they turned away, and she continued her slow progress. Finding another crate, this one a little lower, she hopped toward it and sat down again.

_Well, that was a nice trip..._

Voices were heard outside and they all looked up to see Freddy arrive. April's heart sank as whatever hopes she had been nursing all evaporated. His eyes met hers for a fraction of a second as he took in the surroundings.

Matt went over to Freddy. "What happened?"

Freddy asked a question of his own instead of answering. "Everything OK here…?"

"Yeah."

Jake joined them, and that raised Freddy's eyebrows slightly. "Uh, what's the plan?" Jake asked.

"Do I ask you what your plans are...?" Freddy mocked. "No." While Freddy's intense gaze was on Jake, Matt took the opportunity to shake his head in warning.

Freddy approached April. "Hello, Miss O'Neil... Sorry to keep you waiting again..."

"Hey, don't hurry anything on my account, OK..." April said with a smile that didn't convince anyone.

"Looks like you've been well taken care of in my absence..."

"Yeah, well, I bet that's gonna change right about now, isn't it…?"

"You know me so well… I got some people on their way who are very anxious to meet you..." Something about the way he said that made her even more uneasy than she was already.

Finally, Jake snapped. "OK" he said. "I wanna know. What's happening here...?"

Freddy calmly deigned to answer. "We're waiting."

"For what...?"

Freddy paused for several seconds, while Jake waited for the answer. So did April, though she wasn't sure she really wanted to know...

Freddy glanced over at Matt, who shrugged.

"We need something to bargain with" Freddy said, addressing Jake, not like something akin to an equal as with Matt, but like he was a stubborn child refusing to eat his greens. "The Council have sent someone to deal with the fallout from this. Someone high up..."

"He wants a scapegoat" Matt said to Jake, with an annoyed glance at Freddy. Jake was naïve, not stupid.

"They want someone to suffer for this. That's not going to be us, if I can help it. Why else do you think I kept her alive?"

 _Ooooooohhh..._ April really didn't like the sound of that one little bit... Reflexively, she was trying again to free her hands, but there was little chance of that.

Confused, Jake looked to Matt for clarification. His manner detached, Matt shifted his weight. "He hands her over to them, it's a distraction. It buys him a little time."

"It buys _us_ time" Freddy corrected him.

"What'll they do with her?" Jake asked in what Freddy thought was a very bovine manner.

Since Freddy was in no rush to answer, Matt stepped in. "Interrogate. Torture. Execute..." he replied casually, like it was no big deal to him. "Maybe even in that order." Both Jake and April stared at him, each having trouble coming to terms with that answer.

 _No thanks_ , thought April, as a chill traveled down her spine. _Not really how I saw my day turning out..._

* * *

 **Next:** Whiskers gets on a plane, Freddy takes a knock and the Turtles rap things up...


	22. Rap Up

Splinter helped Whiskers to rise, and the younger rat seemed to take strength from their contact. They had been talking to each other in low voices, and the Turtles didn't pry into what they were saying. They just stood ready.

Their sensei turned to them, an arm around Whiskers' shoulder. "You know what you must do…?" inquired Splinter gently. Whiskers struggled to reply, and in the end, he just nodded. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

He seemed smaller than he had been even a few minutes ago. The Turtles had known their new friend for such a short time and it was painful to realize they might be losing him already.

His body jolted, and his eyes flickered open. He had done it! Reaching out along the thin ethereal tendrils of the Rat King's astral thought wave network, he had found the mental link with the Turtles' friend. The link was fading, it was almost gone in fact, but there was still enough there for him to make some kind of contact...

The wave of emotions hit him like a hurricane in his mind, overwhelming him... April was condemned to a terrible fate, and her terror and anxiety were too much for him to cope with… His body buckled, and the Turtles all started forward to help him. Splinter waved them back.

Finding new reserves of strength, Whiskers stood. Had his brief contact been enough? He looked around the Turtles as if seeing them for the first time. He walked past them toward the gates of the yard, and each of them reached out to touch him. Just a simple gesture of support. He glanced again at each one in turn, and headed out of the yard.

"My sons..." said Splinter. "Why do you wait…? Follow him...!"

* * *

The Turtles ran like never before - April was in real trouble, and there was no way they were going to let her down. Whiskers led them along the paths through the piled-up garbage, twisting and turning... Then along back streets, down alleys... If a building got in the way they would go up the fire escape, along the roof, and down again...

Half way across the city they went, never tiring, never faltering or if they did they quickly reminded themselves why they were doing this.

All the time Whiskers got smaller, as if his exertions were speeding up the process of de-mutation. When eventually their journey neared its end, he was back to where he started, and the Whiskers who finally turned to face them again was a rat. An ordinary rat.

* * *

"Your shoelace is undone..." April, now being tied with what she felt was excessive thoroughness to one of the warehouse's load-bearing posts, said this quietly to the Foot ninja busy binding her. "Kinda ironic, huh...?" 

It was more to distract herself than anything else, because he didn't seem to be listening - She really wanted to think about pretty much _anything_ other than their plans for her future... or lack of one.

"You can't hand her over to people like that..." said Jake, breaking the tense silence that had ensued after Matt's brutally honest forecast of what was going to happen to their prisoner. "You just... can't."

"Seconded..." said April as the last knots were pulled tight, a slight tremor in her voice betraying her growing dread.

"I think you'll find that _I_ can..." Freddy said in a tone that promised danger.

"Don't I get a vote?" April demanded. "Hey, Freddy - I'm talking to you...!" One of the masked ninja turned back to her, and she reacted with dismay - "No, _don't do that_... Not again!" - just before a strip of tape was once again pressed over her mouth. Quick and efficient, the ninja then tied a spare bandana over her eyes as a blindfold before, at a gesture from Freddy, going outside to join the others on guard.

"Vote…? Yeah... vote. I vote _no_...!" Jake glanced at Matt, who wouldn't meet his eye.

Freddy had a hint of a smile, and his voice was dangerously calm. "You vote _no_? OK. Let's go with that. I vote yes. I think it's safe to say the others vote yes... That's four, so five _yesses_... Matt...?" Matt wanted no part of this, and merely waved away the question.

Freddy continued, steely, intent on making his point. "That's one no. Five _yesses_. One abstains... Sorry, sorry..." Freddy held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture toward April, whose face was turned toward him even though she couldn't see anything. "Two _no_ _'s_ , right…?" He looked grim as he turned back to Jake. " _Yes_ still wins. Useful to know, in case this ever becomes a democracy..."

"He gets it..." said Matt, trying to calm the situation.

They all turned as a sound was heard at the door, something banging lightly against it. Then the thud of a much heavier impact. "Is that _them_ …?" Jake asked.

"A little early, but it could be..." Freddy said cheerfully. April twisted within the ropes, sobbing quietly through the tape.

"Doesn't feel right..." said Matt quietly.

"And we just stand here...?" Jake mused, chewing his lower lip.

"That's the general idea..." Freddy replied condescendingly, with a hint of warning in his voice.

"...No way" Jake replied. "You'll have to get through me if you want her."

Matt's head snapped round as he realized things had just changed drastically. Perking up, April listened to see how he reacted - This was a surprise, and it stirred just the tiniest beginning of hope, but she really didn't like the odds very much.

Freddy smiled contemptuously. His eyes flicked briefly to the side. "Matt? How are your loyalties?"

Matt seemed to ponder this for a moment. He stepped forward, sword raised. "Just fine. Thanks for asking." The sword was pointed at Freddy.

"So, there it is" Freddy acknowledged. "Lucky I'm better than either of you, then..."

"Either, yeah..." said Matt as he started to move round Freddy. "But both together?"

Freddy's teeth showed in a savage grin. "Fine by me..." April shrank back against the post, really wishing she could get well out of the way of what was about to happen...

Freddy whistled, the pre-arranged signal to bring the other four in again from their guard duty. When several seconds passed without their arrival, his gaze flicked over to the doors. A staff was thrown with pinpoint accuracy across the warehouse, hitting him on the side of the head, and Freddy fell to the floor, knocked senseless. Donatello came rushing after it.

"April!" he called. She was blindfolded and facing away from him, but his voice prompted a tape-muffled squeal of delight.

Jake and Matt exchanged glances. _Now what?_

Donatello hurried over to April, as Leonardo and Raphael came in after him. He took the blindfold off, leaving her blinking. "April...! You really missed something there... I hit that guy from at least twenty feet away!" Mutely, she did her best to look suitably pleased about that.

The Turtles were ready for a fight as they advanced on Matt and Jake. Quickly though, both dropped their weapons and stood with their hands raised. "So, what are we gonna do with these guys...?" Raphael mused.

"Got a few ideas..." said Leonardo. "Thinkin'a opening it up to the floor." _  
_

"Mmm _mfff_..." was April's frustrated contribution. Donatello moved a little closer to her.

"Sorry, April, I didn't get that."

She shifted impatiently. "Mmm _mmmfff_...?!"

"Maybe if I took the tape off..." he speculated.

 _"Mmm..."_ April considered, rolling her eyes - " _Mmm_ -mmmfff?!" The muffled sarcasm was wasted on Donatello - Distracted, he moved over to stand by his brothers, leaving April looking bereft and tugging against the Foot's cruel restraints - _"Mmmmfff...!"_ she cried plaintively.

"We tried to help her-" Jake began, and Matt shot a _Shut up!_ look at him. He continued anyway - "Look, _ask_ her...!" He glanced over at April. "I really think she wants freed, y'know?"

"Mmm _mmmfff_...!" April confirmed, nodding.

That brought Donatello back to her side with an apologetic look. "Sorry, April..." he said. "Say... Do you mind if I just try something...?" She looked at him dubiously.

"Cover them, Raph" said Leonardo. He shrugged. "I always wanted to say that." He looked round, and cringed. "Donny, no, _don't_..."

Donatello was reaching for April's gag - Seeing Leo's reaction, she shook her head, adding her muffled plea to his. Donatello wasn't to be dissuaded and he removed the tape carefully, as gently as he could and reasonably painlessly - April grimaced as it peeled away, and silently mouthed _Ooooow._

"I think I finally got the hang of that" said Don, struggling to discard the silver strip as it persistently stuck to his fingers - "You finally did" said Leonardo, genuinely pleased for him. *****

" _Thanks_ , guys..." said April, and looked down at the ropes holding her to the post in a none too subtle hint - It was no good, their attention had wandered again. "I said, _uh_ , thanks, guys..." she added pointedly. As Leo started freeing her, Raphael stepped over the unconscious Freddy and prodded Matt with one of his sais.

"So, what about these reprobates?" 

April twisted round to see past Leonardo. "Leave them, Raph...!" she called - Leonardo, having a tough time unraveling the coils of rope, shrugged as she gave him a _What's taking so long?_ look and tugged impatiently.

"April…?" Raphael gaped in surprise.

Trailing ropes, she hurried over and moved the blade away from Matt with her still-bound hands. "Look, trust me, OK?" she said, as Leonardo finished releasing her - Both Matt and Jake looked back and forth from April to Raphael, not daring to speak. "I know these two aren't angels, but I think they deserve a chance."

Raphael turned to them, intense. He stared at them for a moment, mouth twisting into a menacing grimace. "Why... I oughta..." He glanced back at April for a second, then back to them. "Sharpen up, guys" he said reluctantly. "That is your cue to leave, while you can!" Jake and Matt started, and moved away, astonished.

"Jake!" April called. He turned back. "You are kinda cute, for what it's worth" she conceded, toying with the coil of rope still in her hands. "Just sayin'."

Jake smiled, before remembering the urgency of his situation and backing away. Matt stayed only a moment longer, and shared a brief glance with April. Did she imagine it, or did he actually wink before he turned and left? What a nerve...

 _Yeah, you already know you're cute..._ With a mischievous smile, April turned back to the Turtles, finding them looking at her questioningly. "What...?" she asked, defensive. Problem? After what she'd been through, _frankly_ , she could flirt with the _less bad_ bad guys if she wanted to. Realizing she still held some of the rope they had tied her with, she threw it away in distaste.

A low groan was heard from Freddy where he lay on the floor. Picking up Donatello's staff, Raphael casually tapped him on the head again as he passed, before handing the weapon back to his brother. "I hope you know what you're doin', April..."

"Y'know, Raph, they did make this whole thing just a _little_ less horrible. I don't think I'm going to regret doing them the same favor." The Turtles looked at each other, unconvinced. "Hey, you guys are all _spiritual_..." April chided. "You never heard of karma?"

"Uh... We're Turtles, not chameleons" replied Donatello.

"Anyway..." she teased, "Nice rescue, guys. Not the best I've ever had, but not bad either. Uh... Seven outta ten."

"I didn't know we were being graded" grumbled Raphael. His mood lightened as April gleefully threw her arms around his torso and held on tight.

"Well, if you want a better grade, show up before the nick of time, OK?" Letting go of him, April turned to Leo. "Come on - Over here, fearless leader. Nobody gets outta here without a hug..."

"Did you guys say something...?" Michelangelo appeared in the doorway, Whiskers nestled contentedly in the palm of one hand and holding one of the Foot guards upright with the other. He let the guard fall, and shrugged. "They don't make 'em like they used to."

* * *

There was something he had forgotten. Bryan Bryant adjusted his tie for the fifth time since he had put it on. He was a nervous public speaker – he knew that – but he always seemed to manage to pull it together. This time, for whatever reason, it felt different.

There was something he had forgotten. Bryan stepped up to the microphone. The press and dignitaries were assembled. His notes were in front of him. He knew what he was doing. He believed in his program. He was confident it was what the city needed. All the same...

At the back, near one of the exits, Chief Sterns stood with the Deputy Mayor.

"...Yeah, he's a good kid. Look, Chief, I wanted to say thanks. I can tell you, your predecessor wouldn't have kept digging the way you did, and that kid would be facing a custodial sentence... It wasn't looking good there, for a while..."

"Well, you know... There was something about that I never bought anyway. And to tell you the truth, I understand all that technical mumbo jumbo proving him innocent about as much as I understood the incriminating stuff... But my tech guys assure me, whoever made off with all that money it wasn't him..."

"It's good that it's turned out that way. You know, it's silly, maybe, but I got a feeling about that young man. The sky's the limit, it's like the stabilizers came off him the last couple'a days... He'll have my job one day, and then who knows... Maybe someday... President...?"

"Have you been reading my mind...? I was thinking the same thing... Huh. What about that...?"

"Yeah... Huh..."

There was something he had forgotten. Bryan felt confused, sluggish, like he was carrying in his head the weight of something vast and unfathomable and... Inaccessible. He stepped up to the microphone. If he delayed starting his speech any longer, the crowd in front of him would think there was something wrong.

Yet, of course, that couldn't be further from the truth.

There was something he had forgotten. He made one last effort to remember. Never mind. It probably wasn't anything important.

The Rat King, imprisoned in the recesses of his mind, slept...

Bryan cleared his throat. "Good morning..." One particular face in the audience caught his eye, and again he lost his train of thought... A long solemn, deeply-lined face.

He blinked and looked again. Nothing there.

 _...For now_.

* * *

Microphone in hand, bathed in the weak early-morning Fall light, April was back in her comfort zone. "...And with dawn this morning, perhaps it's not too much of a stretch to say, there's a new optimism. The people of New York have looked another crisis square in the face, and we're all still here… With City Hall having just now revealed its broad plans for a wide-ranging program of refurbishment of New York's infrastructure, maybe we're standing on the brink of a new era for our city...

And, let's not forget, the events of the past few days have shown us that if you find yourself in trouble 'round here, you're not alone. Next time anybody tells you superheroes are a fantasy, the stuff of comic books, you can go right ahead and tell them, _I'm from New York. We got ourselves the Turtles_..."

She smiled into camera. "This is April O'Neil, for Channel 3, at City Hall. Have a very good day. I think we've all earned it."

* * *

Irma took the mic and headed to the back of the van to pack it away. April followed and leaned into the vehicle to talk to her. "What do you think so far, Irma? Is this the life for you?"

Irma considered carefully before replying, but her eyes shone with excitement. "...You know what...? I think it is. I got a real feeling this is just the beginning. You know what I mean...?"

"Yeah, I think I do..." April turned to go.

"I tell you one thing, though..." Irma continued. "Whatever else happens... I'm really glad we don't have to go through the last couple of days again."

"Yeah..." April smiled ruefully. "Well, don't worry about that. There's not much I _can_ guarantee, but I'm real sure there's one place neither of us is ever going to go. And that's _the past_..."

* * *

Leonardo turned the TV off with a click and, along with his three brothers, turned to watch Master Splinter in reverent silence. Their sensei looked tired, more tired than they'd ever seen him, hunched in his chair, eyes hooded.

Splinter looked up and regarded all four of his sons in turn. Leonardo... Donatello... Michelangelo... Raphael... He shook his head sorrowfully.

The four of them got up and started moving over to the middle of the floor where there was space. "Where are you going...?" asked Splinter. Whiskers looked up, taking an interest for a moment, before getting back to prowling around the floor.

"Uh..." Leonardo fidgeted. "Flips?" Splinter gestured at them to sit again.

"My sons... I sent you away with the hope that your return would mean the end of your training... That you would finally be the ninja I have always meant you to become... and I would no longer be needed. In that goal, you have failed..."

The four of them lowered their heads. Raphael looked up briefly, looking for a moment like he would argue, but then thought better of it.

Splinter continued. "Your failure is my failure... I lost sight of something important. This city is your home. It is part of you... Sending you away was a mistake. You are not ready to stand alone..." His demeanor changed at that moment, the drooping eyelids lifting and the eyes beneath shining. "Lucky I'm not planning to go anywhere yet..."

They looked at each other. Where was this headed...?

"My sons..." Splinter continued, "I can only say this... You have failed... And I am so very proud of you..."

The grin spread, contagious, beginning with Leonardo and traveling through the other three.

"Training will continue" said Splinter. "Tomorrow. Meantime..." He paused, for quite a long time, and the Turtles cast sidelong glances at each other.

"...Party on... _Dudes_!"

As one, delighted, the Turtles got up again and, with Donatello switching on the stereo as he passed it, they began an impromptu dance routine. It all felt much like it had before, what seemed like an eternity ago, before this all began. "Hey guys...!" called Michelangelo. "It's our song…!"

At the loud music blasting from the stereo, Splinter shook his head ruefully. Not, however, without a hint of a smile. All in all, it was like they'd never been away. And never would be again.

* * *

 **  
End Song:** **_The Rat Rap_ ** **lyrics**

 

 

 

 

So it's a Turtle Rap! It's a quick burst of fame

But people they're fickle, now they all think it's _soooo_ lame

The Turtles they ain't here, looks like they've gone AWOLs

On a secret mission, don't an _swer_ no phone calls

  
You got the Foot Clan! The word is they're back

Got Tatsu in charge, the head of the pack

He got his big plan, he won't break a sweat

But lookee down here, a much bigger threat

  
You got the Rat King! Ancient and terrible,

Lurking down there, his madness unbearable

His army of rats, they're all under control

Just so long as we all do just what we're tol'!

 

_Cow-a-bunga, Nin-ja Turtle_ _(background chant throughout)_ ,

Champions of New York, striking from below!

They're coming atcha, through your stereo!

Turtles back in town, don't wanna be no bad guy!

Turtle vs. Rat, the stakes they're darn near sky high!

(repeat)

  
Splinter's the master! He sent them away

New York's distractions have led them astray

Got thinking to do, they got lessons to learn

But it's all gone wrong, Turtles, time to return

  
The Rats are rapid! Rising to the surface,

You wanna fight 'em, gotta learn their purpose

The Rat King commands them, the army obeys

Ready, get ready, for the end of days

  
Irma's come through! Now she's one of the gang

Keeps coming back, she's like a _boomerang_

People running scared, citywide attack

She'll keep a clear head, she's got April's back

_Cow-a-bunga, Nin-ja Turtle_ _(background chant throughout)_ ,

Champions of New York, striking from below!

They're coming atcha, through your stereo!

Turtles back in town, don't wanna be no bad guy!

Turtle vs. Rat, the stakes they're darn near sky high!

(repeat)

  
It's all gone to plan? No, it's all hit the fan,

Tatsu's got trouble, it's all down to his man

Freddy the spy, the trusted lieutenant,

Plan inside plan, far too independent

  
He's got April O'Neil! Kidnapped reporter

The Turtles he'll trap, he'll offer no quarter

Too clever by far, got his eye on the prize

But a knock on the head, it's all gone bye byes

  
The bad guys, they'll fall! The Turtles, they'll rise

Good versus evil; it's no big surprise

But now one thing's for sure, when all's said and done

Life's tough for the champions, the battle's hard won

_Cow-a-bunga, Nin-ja Turtle_ _(background chant throughout)_ ,

Champions of New York, striking from below!

They're coming atcha, through your stereo!

Turtles back in town, don't wanna be no bad guy!

Turtle vs. Rat, the stakes they're darn near sky high!

(repeat)

 

* * *

 **Next:** He's back...

 


	23. Storm Clouds

There was no one to meet the Foot dignitaries when they touched down at JFK. Getting through immigration with a minimum of fuss, they were soon ensconced in the waiting car and rushed to their destination. Concealed behind the blacked out windows, the shadowy figures did not talk among themselves – there was no need.

The doors slid open, and the new leader of the Foot in New York hurried into the disused warehouse without troubling to wait for her escort, the young Japanese men in dark suits hurrying to catch up. She stopped in the middle of the vast space, and waited.

She was young, not very tall and slender of build. Only a fool, however, would have underestimated her for any of those reasons.

On the other side of the warehouse, a set of double doors opened and were held by two Foot ninja as a trolley was pushed through. The trolley, the huge body lying on it covered by a sheet, was pushed toward the young woman, a lab-coated figure scurrying beside it.

The doctor was a shambolic figure – pale, unkempt, unshaven, greasy hair hanging lank, the glint of madness in his eyes. He grinned at the sight of the arrival, and offered his hand. It was ignored, but not with any disdain. The young Japanese woman showed no emotion at all.

"My lady..." began the leading ninja. "This is doctor-"

"-What is the condition of the patient?" she asked in flawless, unaccented, English.

The doctor grinned again, and her nose wrinkled slightly in distaste at the unpleasant odor of his rank breath. He snapped his fingers and gestured to the accompanying ninja and they started rolling the sheet down away from the patient's head and shoulders. Although they knew what they would see, all present took a sharp breath as the body was revealed.

"The patient is still human, as far as I can tell without a more detailed investigation..." The doctor watched the lady's face for any reaction to his words, and although she was clearly listening there was still no emotion. "He is of normal proportions again, and his armor has resized itself accordingly – Odd, that, and inexplicable. The helmet has totally fused to his face. It could perhaps be removed, but I'm not sure that's a good idea..."

The lady stepped forward and leaned over the huge figure lying on the trolley. "I am here, my lord..." she said quietly. Even she was startled when the eyes suddenly snapped open and focused on her. The dark eyes were fiercely intelligent, cold and totally without pity.

"It's alive..." The doctor grinned again and looked round as though he expected them to laugh.

"Welcome back, Lord Shredder..." the lady began, and lowered her eyes before adding quietly _"Father"_.

* * *

* * *

**Rated OK: Basically fine for all the family, except for scenes of mild peril and violence and sequences involving hordes of squirming raaaaats! Uuuuuuuuggggghhhrrr!**

* * *

**All characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional, but frankly if you need to be told that...**

* * *

**Original motion picture soundtrack not available for... uh, contractual reasons.**

* * *

**Read the novelization on a well-known fan fiction site.**

* * *

**NOTE:** If even one person out there somewhere checks IMDB to see if this movie actually exists, I will feel my work here is done.

* * *

**Where Are They Now?**

**Miss Henrietta McWilliams** went on to marry the hulking mutant turtle known as Stanley and they adopted several cats and a Shih Tzu called Frank. They divorced after 3 years, citing irreconcilable differences and the "Troughton rule". You can sometimes see her shouting at people in Central Park.

 **Todd** lives a very boring life in suburbia with his wife and two children. Coincidentally, he also has a dog - a Labrador, not a Shih Tzu - called Frank. As well as his day job, something in marketing, he runs an internet forum called The Sidekicks club, with his fellow moderators Daniel Pennington and Keno.

 **Matt** is fine. Further details classified.

 **Jake** is also fine. See Matt for details.

 **Freddy** isn't doing so well. That's no secret.

 **Bryan Bryant** continued to serve the city of New York well for many years after the defeat of the Rat King, and was a key figure in the reorganization of New York's infrastructure under Mayor Giuliano Rudiani. As for whether the Rat King ever emerged from his mind again, those details are classified...

 **Irma Langinstein** remains at WRTL Channel 3 to this day, having worked her way up from assistant to April O'Neil to secretary to the news manager and, via a brief foray in front of the camera, the various stages of management to her present position of Managing Director; a role in which she has been highly successful. There is far more detail – too much, possibly – in her official biography, _Attack of the 5'2" Woman_.

Irma is married to the former model turned celebrity chef Hugo Rolandville and they have three children; Donatello, Avril and the youngest, Leoraphgelo Splinter, who plans to change his name as soon as he reaches 21 and can access his trust fund.

 **April Harriet O'Neil** continued her successful career at Channel 3 for some years after the Rat King incident, uncovering conspiracies, cover-ups and full-blown plots to destroy New York and, on more than one occasion, the entire world. She has traveled into the past, the future, alternative realities and, according to an unsubstantiated rumor, once went somewhere quite dull where no one threatened her in any way. The latter incident, questionably sourced, may be apocryphal.

In the course of her adventures, many of them involving the Turtles, April has been kidnapped - by the Foot Clan, medieval warlords, mobsters, the Foot Clan, rogue mutants, pan-dimensional Turtles, the Foot Clan _again_ \- no less than eighteen times. After about thirteen of those, she realized that Splinter had been sincere in his offer to train her in martial arts and after that the kidnappings were successful far less often.

Casey returned, and they eventually had a talk. She is still in touch with the Turtles.

 **Splinter** enjoyed a long and happy retirement living under New York. Even after he had finished training them, his sage advice helped the Turtles through some of their greatest challenges. Occasionally, he judged the time right for another funny without even once denting his authority or credibility.

 **Leonardo** , **Raphael** , **Donatello** and **Michelangelo** had many more adventures. They keep having them. Good.

* * *

 


End file.
